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Saints In Cells
They are saints in cells
haunted by the 18th century tales
stuck in the middle of hell
like Daniel in the lion's den
Their clothes are torn
like roses in the African horn
Their hearts are worn
like the wanderer's sole
innocence has not left though
and the whole world knows
They are just seeds amongst weeds
positively living like saints in cells
poem
by
Timothy muggaga
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