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Being Homeless  

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Leeroy Fairhurst Being Homeless I awake to the sound of the trains in which who's yard I had spent the night. The bitter wind had eaten at my fingers and toes during the night and it was extremely hard to walk. I staggered to my feet and collected my belongings well if u could call a 4-month-old blanket and a mangled tin-cup belongings. The morning are always hard for anybody even those top notch lawyers that earn thousand of pounds a day but for me a "tram" or a "Disgrace" as people stereotype me as, it is four times as difficult. It's worse when it rains because it releases the rotten odours that lay within the woven cloth or my rotting garments that I call clothes. My life even though it doesn't have much meaning anymore does sometimes but not very often have its tiny little perks, for instance the other day I...

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