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The Stranger

Thick, fierce and fiery is the blood that runs through me,
A heart of a Lioness when it’s needed to be,
I am the meaning of patriotic pride,
Don’t judge how I look; you don’t know what’s inside,
Though I live in your world it’s not where I belong,
But my home is the reason I remain strong,
For your world is dull to me whereas mine shines so bright,
I will only rest under a blanket of stars at night,
I will only rest walking barefoot in hot sand,
I will only rest with my people who understand.
This may be a home to you but here I cannot live,
Though it is prosperous I do not need what it can give,
Though I enjoyed life here I must return,
There is deeper satisfaction found in the place I yearn
To be in the sweet smell of pure air,
Where you feel at ease and people care,
Even if we don’t have a lot, our smiles we still share,
Where the sun radiates warmth for the earth,
And the night brings with it laughter and mirth,
Oh I do long to be there once more,
These western ways have made my soul sore,
Deprived, thirsty for my land again,
Libya, my home, family and friends.

Fatima Abdulmula
Bradford, UK

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