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The trees tilted when the birds sang in the tree branches.
And the sky rained a lot of rain.
The morning rose after a night dominated by the love of the moon.
And the night singing for calm with the gloom.
Dew drops formed on the grass for several more days.
Thus, I walk my path alone and announce my death to mankind.
Let poverty go away and let danger go away.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Ottawa International Poets and Writers for human Rights (OIPWHR)