i have seen your eyes in pictures
they water in the dusty ink of newspaper
i have seen your desperation
and felt the sting of your suppression
from my haven i have seen your women
take up the heaviest of arms upon feminine shoulders
you have screamed politeness
while your children starve and your nation perishes
and now in your moss covered mountains
and beds in the trees
in layers of sand-colored linen
you stand with unmeasureable pride with ink hair
and liquid eyes the color of your earth
you strike with the tools of the tiniest
terror and amplification
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