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I have offered asylum.You have come and left and come. To be a sanctuary, I must oil the hingesand shake out the doormatson a regular basis, gather sustenancefor all who arrive, and offer tea.
Rowing the little boat over the roaring tides and underneath the thundering clouds, I hold onto the life I had lived before. The load got heavier, the rain fell harder and the waves crashed with more anger. I surveyed the black water, looking for
She lived in Kenya, Only knew her ABC's, Moved to America at eleven years old, Taught herself English, No one helped her, She fell behind, And yet her heart never failed,
I write because I never could throw a punch. I never could run fast enough jump high enough or beat you in sports at recess, But I could run circles around your head with unparalleled linguistic prowess. I spoke daggers,
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