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Comments about Jean Wilcox
Memories are like butterflies
That flutter through the breeze
Just when you think they're gone
They flutter back with ease.
They have never had enough to eat
Nor even warm clothes to wear
Always looking in from the outside
With pain they could not share!
BUFFETTED AND BANGED AND BEATEN
BEWILDERED AND BATTERED - ALONE
NEGLECT AND ABUSE RUN RAMPANT
NOT EVEN A GUTTER TO CALL HOME
The poverty and filth they live in
HOPELESSNESS - Never ending despair
Takes more that a roof for cover
We must ...