Refugees

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They have lost their gold.
Come in search of a home.
The milk and honey flowing streams
of motherland seem to be the crux of shattered dreams
which involve nothing like :

Broken streets and shattered homes
billowing smoke and dust sprays
Silence pierced by gunshots
Bodies unceremoniously buried
under debris and seashells as bouquets
with lullabies of explosions and sea tides
for their final sleep.

But then
something along the lines like :

Dreams of paradise
Built on unprejudice and non-melanin distinguished stereotypes
And flowers of love and respect
That'll bloom
Eternally.

#RefugeesWelcome


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