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July 13, 2014
Alone I sit
Hungry and poor
I hope they found
What they were looking for
They burned my family
Ontop a wooden cross
The only one to live is me
Should I blame god
I have to paint my skin
I will the use the mud
So that I can blend
Right in with them
They think I'm dead
There in for a surprise
When they wake up in bed
Just to see my eyes
© Michelle W., Ada, MI
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