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It's 3 A.M.
and out breaks mayhem
amidst the quiet peace of sleep
I hear
through my thin windows creep
the shouts of shrieking curses
strewn at sweet children
who cry
And it comes from across
the groaning ghetto alley
behind my pristine
picket fenced house
in the not-so-ghetto
part of town
And I cannot help but get up
and listen for more
just in case they don't let up
and something happens
that never does
and hopefully
never will
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