Normal 0 false false false IN X-NONE X-NONE He’s just in his nine A little too used to being alone Born without father Raised with no mother  Suffered even in a house That would never be a home And humiliation become his dinner Poverty become his power Runaway, he bring every nothing he own Where the time feels like stop counting down Cross  the hell named London  Punishment  coming for what he never done Life...

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