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Shiftng Sands (Love Poem)
Half a million miles a year,
My carry-on is my home.
Living in three shirts, in
Indifferent cold hotels,
In far-away lands is like,
My shifting sands in life,
Until I see you again.
Sometimes I get homesick,
For places I’ve not yet been,
Where I will feel at peace alone,
Everywhere I make my home,
But without you this is like,
My shifting sands of life
Until I see you again.
poem
by
Ian Beckett
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