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This is London


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Cold, broken and desperate; united only by their loneliness,

 

I watch those poor wretches limning the harshly paved streets below

 

Turning my gaze, I see the vaunted splendor of architectural marvels;

 

Their revolving doors admitting black suits and silk ties.

 

This grey twilight: a blending of day and night; poor and rich; weak and powerful;

 

This

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