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Click hereThe plaster's chipped and faded
The wall is cracked and worn
The window just a small square hole
The curtain grey and torn
A struggling garden at the back
A dirt road, nothing more.
An oldish, care-worn woman leans
Arms cross against the door
And in the fading yellow light
Her daughter's jumping rope.
We turn and make our careful way
Down the long, steep slope.