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Lines In The Dirt
They come with little in their hands,
from burned-out homes and broken lands.
Their hopes are packed in bags of thread,
their pasts erased, their futures bled.
The children walk through desert air,
their fathers drown in deep despair.
No one who leaves a home intact
will ever choose a life like that.
But those who watch them at the gate
are tired too, and bear their weight.
They se...
Saturday 26th July 2025 6:47 am
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