Kids On The Streets Analysis

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Ever Changing – Never Leaving
Kids-On-The-Streets have been around for a long time and their existence will probably exceed my eyes and yours, for they never leave but at the same time, they are never the same.

I guess that statement is pretty vague, allow me to tell you a story so that you understand what I’m trying to tell you. For this story, I need you to play a game with me, a game of imagination, for the sake of this story I need you to imagine I am describing you, and your family members, of course, you can change my descriptions into what fits your scenario best, but since I do not know you, I’m just going to turn them into characters, so here we go…

When your mother was a teenager, they were all plain as if they were neat
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They run on sweet cut grass; they run on prickly cement; they run on shushing sand and warm butter paved roads and rocky-road dirt. Their feet have scars shaped like the universe on them. Those feet are tougher than the finest diamonds because they exist solely to survive not to be indulged.

The kids play games because that is what Kids are supposed to do. When the summer comes around, they stay out dawn till dusk, carving warm shavings out of the sunset with their curved sticks and plastic frisbees. When Fall comes around, The Kids run off the school bus, out of the car, across the street to drop their bags and join the clusters.

Then time passes, when they have breaks from work, they kick around a soccer ball outside of the factory, the family restaurant. When you were there, they played House, painting dreams of themselves in chalk beds. Now they play hockey, hitting pucks with plastic sticks with a sound like the strokes of a clock in the dark, they race with their shiny bulks of metals their parents bought them, mischief and naivety, no sense of the bigger picture, zero acknowledgement of

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