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Apr 2013
I’m surrounded by these people
Whose language I do not speak,
All of the sounds often make me weak,
A word I know, makes my nose crinkle.

Grey skies quite often sprinkle,
The apartment does have its leaks,
Wet furniture, oh but it reeks.
Finding my comfort, at the house with a steeple.

Praying, singing, dancing and love,
Your glory shines down on us from above.
We sing and praise your so Holy name,

Did you hear them ask me to play a game?
This foreign world, feeling like home,
You know what they say, “When in Rome!”
If anyone ever tells you being a tck is easy peasy they are LYING. LIAR. YOU ARE LYING.
KM
Written by
KM
493
   Dreiliece and Dag J
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