ARTS AND CULTURE
I have to imagine what it would be like to be a refugee, to have fought the sea for safe loam, to starve while salt eats the ship, to thirst for fruit back home, to plea for life and water, to grow sores and wipe blood from our daughter's mouth. But no imagination is needed to witness ice and spit from an ignorant mouth ... I have known and have seen faces contorted like knuckles with hate; feet planted to fight for their version of country.
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