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Poverty in the USA – A short story The empty eyes I met, when she opened the door told me more than enough. You could see the pain, the stress, the worry and every single feeling that floated in her head right in her eyes. They were lost for colours. It looked like a dead soul in a living person’s body. It was awful to stand there, at the doorstep, and look into those eyes. But I didn’t look down for one second – I wanted to face the reality. The thing, that I never looked at, and always turned
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