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Victor Jun 2023
I want my life to be measured by how much I loved you
Victor Apr 2020
The flag is not my home.
No paint can hold my heart.
A red sun or a hammer and sickle;
that is my home?
My home lies somewhere between the lines of the flag on a mountain plain they claim as their own.
Among the green patches and the blue.
I search for this land called home and I hope to see it too.

— The End —