I arrived in poorness..

found a very nice poem. It is written by a minor refugee who is currently stuck in Greece. The page I found the poem is from Villa Azadi.

Can’t be done yet

I arrived in poorness
that is not full yet
And the strange things
that can’t be done yet
And a new criminal I become
the sin of wheat and apple
that can’t be committed yet
in love that feels holy
that can’t be done yet

check out the hole poem

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