deepundergroundpoetry.com
it is us
It is us who bleeds
the little ones
in a country
we have never seen
where our pious words
travel a line
of skeletal women
who wait for the pain
of loney graves
the little ones
in a country
we have never seen
where our pious words
travel a line
of skeletal women
who wait for the pain
of loney graves
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