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Children

Returning to the earth were we laid as a child.

Feeling our heart beats in the sand and in the dirt,

And in ourselves.

The land is our own, and we it’s children.

I feel the place were I once lived,

It is burnt to the ground,

Dust.

I collect it in handfuls.

Trying to rebuild it into something it wasn’t.

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d
Written by
daniel-august
American
Published
May 24, 2010
Lines·Words
9·61
Permission

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