These breasts
I'm trying to breastfeed
all the world's hungry children.
Loose nutrition to nourish up
gray hapset
Sheltered from the cylinder.
I can not asylum
give. I do not refugee flow
carrying the boat to give.
Hear the silent whisper,
how it will wail over
swelling of the lips of the weeping voice.
It is a delicate word is numbing the pain.
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