There was a time they said they loved me here,
But six months turned the seasons of the year.[span_5](end_span)
Now whispers follow me like hungry hounds,
They write me up within their hateful bounds.[span_6](end_span)
... (Poem continues) ...
[span_7](start_span)My savings gone, my spirit turned to ash,
One ticket home is all I have to ask.[span_7](end_span)