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Immigration
Sand
We walk for miles within
With our dry throats
Our aching muscles
And restless feet
We walk within acres of pure gold grains
Sand
We scamper
Yet so far
but yet so close
It sparkles
It glares
Its cold icy touch
Yet so sweet
But yet so sour
The mildest of tastes
Water
Finally done for the day
On the day of the night
And on the night of the day
And in the dark of the sky
And glistening moon
We slumber
For the journey begins in the light of the sun
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