Now packs of wild dogs come at me; thugs gang up on me. They pin me down hand and foot, and lock me in a cage—a bag Of bones in a cage, stared at by every passerby. They take my wallet and the shirt off my back, and then throw dice for my clothes. You, GOD—don’t put off my rescue! Hurry and help me! Don’t let them cut my throat; don’t let those mongrels devour me. If you don’t show up soon, I’m done for—gored by the bulls, meat for the lions.
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