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The Poor Little Boy on Walnut Street Five years old... there he sat on Walnut street... all dressed up in his little Sailor suit. A big smile of anticipation on his tiny face. His little blond curls combed so neat... ready to go to some wonderful place. Waiting, waiting to be picked up... by someone who loves him... by someone who might care. The hours slowly passed by. No one came and no one cared. No one to meet the poor little boy... on Walnut street. Now there he sat... all dressed up in his little Sailor suit... on Walnut street... so small, so sad, so sweet... with his little blond curls combed so neat. Warm tears streamed down his rosy cheeks. Only five years old, but Oh... he knew, he was just a little throw-away boy... who lives on Walnut street. Just like a poor little throw-away toy... that has quit giving love and joy... just a poor little throw-away toy. Oh, how small, how sad, how sweet... setting there weeping... weeping in the summer heat... sosmall, so sad, so sweet. The poor little boy on Walnut street. |
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