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Sometimes I sense meanings
hidden behind the politically correct galaxy of words Although lucky stars run low on me and self esteem turns wild I express my concern This is how I am Must make known to everybody what is on my mind What bothers me as an immigrant is the artificial consideration that leads to hollow certainty and the kindness misunderstood for formality They bring about futile hopes I can understand why people are not able to tell nebulas from stars but I mind when it comes to differentiate between homeland and motherland Home is where we choose to live today Maternal is the land we uprooted ourselves from Copyright ©2005 Luminita Suse
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