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Dec 2019
The shadow of the flowering tree, shelters me as I write. Children soiled all over, yell and scream in their native tongue. Fruits dangle in the wind as the trees rock forth and back. Feeling a heavy load in my rib cage, I stretch inhaling the cool morning air. I gaze into the distance and drift with the lonely breeze.
Simbarashe Mupazviribwo
Written by
Simbarashe Mupazviribwo  24/M/Zimbabwe
(24/M/Zimbabwe)   
  103
     Sue Collins and Bogdan Dragos
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