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Williamsburg poem

In Williamsburg once, the economy was small. A penny for a candy, or a nickel for wafers. The children played, with what they could afford. While the EL trollies, roamed the streets. Buildings were two to four stories. And below them, the women would bunch together like people on the subway. Now there are corner stores on every block. DJ Mini Market or Elete Village Supermarket. A dime for a candy, and a buck for wafers. Buildings four times, the height they used to be. All that is left, are the street names, that have all their stories, to tell.

The story was posted on 0000-00-00