| http://www.w3.org/ns/prov#value | - Rich man, you look at my clothing And the tumble-down shack I call home You may thing that luck has forsaken me And I reckon you would not be alone But these clothes are just fine for working And the shack is a palace to me For when I step inside, I greet with pride a loving family There is poverty of pocket Of spirit, and of mind The only wealth I care for Is friendship so true and kind This world has
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