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I come from a long line
of people who explore the
world, its peoples and
its languages.

Roaming is not a hard
task – but it is seeing
those people,
faces upturned to
yours,
and knowing that
they have nothing

that hurts.

Words in my language
cannot describe
the burning
shame
of passing a young girl by
(“I’m sorry” – heartfelt)
who is dressed in rags

we would not even wipe the floor with

and
has a pitiful pleading look.

She will not be here next year
when I visit.

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