Saleh Ben Saleh

Tripoli - Libya April 8, 1967
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A Stranger in Foreign Lands

I live among my very kind, equal in blood, but with a different mind. I always feel, I am alone, a tiny pebble in a pile of stone. Silent complaints and barren demands, I am a stranger in foreign lands.

Sleepless nights, wandering thoughts, entwined emotions of dreams I sought. Regions of sorrow and moments of pain, dark distant murmurs that drive me insane. Tearful eyes, and signs of fear, but in my nadir I must persevere.

On cold winter nights and in long summer days, I look for hope, in a praiseful phrase. Or a word of respect, once in a while, a cheerful laugh, or a comforting smile. A pat on the back, or a shake of the hand, signs of contentment that make me stand.

With a longing heart, I opened my eyes, and looked above, at the laden skies. I saw glimpses of memories, in a distant village, fading whispers and a shattered image. As clouds of emotions roamed high above, with the gusting wind I send home my love.

Saleh Ben Saleh
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