From England's Green and Pleasant Land 
  Robin Hickman

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 Bag Lady

Where did she go to in Winter?
What was her purpose in life?
Who knew her name?
Did anyone care?
About the bag-lady,
I saw sitting there?

Night after day,
when I caught my train,
I saw her at Victoria.
Was that her name?

Twenty years on,
I was on a bus,
as it went round Marble Arch,
in the evening rush.
There she was,
she hadn't changed,
still dressed in rags.
The bag-lady of Victoria Station


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