In the city's heart, where bright lights gleam,
A child sleeps cold, lost in a dream.
With empty hands and hollow eyes,
She sings to the moon her silent cries.

The streets, her cradle, the stars, her guide,
Yet fate has turned and cast aside.
Footsteps pass, yet none will see,  
A life forsaken, longing to be free.

Her voice, a whisper, drowned by gold,
As riches rise and hearts grow cold.
A thousand echoes, none reply,  
While shadows watch the silent sky.

THE END

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