the stranger who
walks among us
wants little in
return for loyalty
each day he works,
each night the same
what pleasant thing
has he to share
infinite heights to
reach for
in peace he resides
beside us
cold are his hands
for he fears
that he is not
accepted, not loved
we have so much to
learn from his heart
we would be better
served by his soul
little do we know
and understand him
for his dream is
only to live in freedom
and his place is
beneath our flag
let his tired eyes
see the sunrise
without worry,
without expulsion
could we one day
learn to call him friend
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