The stray dogs
The stray cats
The stray humans
Walking or strolling or hiding
In the open; in shadows of trees and buildings
Finding places to relax and dream
Of the good living up in their minds
But in reality
They will repeat all over again
Begging for alms to feed
The days and nights
Touching the hearts
Of any kind souls to comply
Not every day there is kindness
Sometimes they don't have food
The stray humans have no shelters
They will sleep on corridors or bridges
And we thought they have no hope
The volunteers
They find ways to help
This is the backyard
They don't see clearly?
Going to war zones they find it great
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