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if
my wishes
were stars
the sky
would be bright,
like daytime a magnificent
thing;
granted wishes
fall down
like shooting stars,
ergo
the vault of heaven
would be still,
immovable
clamoring voices
twist and turn
around me
melodies strange
each utterance
a puzzle,
a din
unbearable

I watch them
laughter rises
like smoke from fire
merry-making
joy
in their faces

I stand
at the banks
of their flowing
mother tongue,
I cannot cross;
I feel the divide

the song
of my culture
the lyrics
I cannot sing
lost in
the sound
understanding
eludes me

traditions and dances
warmth
of their fire
a distant craving
too distant
I feel nothing
but bitterness

lights dimming
the weight of
shame
bears down
upon me;
I shall know
no release

— The End —