There's always someone desperate and hungry,
Coming to the border, begging to be brought
Within, and also always someone there who
Snarls that they must go back. How many
Wait how long in camps for chances to be
Saved and settled, at the mercy of the ones
Who drove them from their homes?

Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
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Written on 2021-09-21 at 17:37

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Jamsbo Rockda The PoetBay support member heart!
It is a universal malady created by the illusion that we actually own the earth. "Imagine no possessions, I wonder if you can". We are all refugees. The problem nicely described here.

I wouldn't like to begin counting.