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Sometimes,
it
lasts
all
night.
I
lie
here
and
I
listen
to
the
shovels
and
the
picks
against
that
wall
there.
And
I
pray
the
sun
will
come
up
at
the
curtains
before
they
break
through.
No,
I
don't
pray
-
I
hope.
And
sometimes,
it
happens.
The
sun
beats
them.
But
mostly
the
shovels
beat
the
sun.
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