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Transient Being - Poetry Group

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I am here,
but where is here?
Here is never permanent,
but merely temporary,
until the next train comes.
Where it will go,
I do not know,
but still I go.
Although I know they shall throw,such a hobo as I,
from the train,
still I rise to be,
Transient Being.
Always shall I move on,
because I am no permanence....

It's not done yet. I was wondering if someone could give me some ideas for more. Its based on the Great Depression.

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