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For Libya and Her People

Watching the pain turn to joy on the faces of the Libyan people caused me to write this small poem.
I am thinking of writing more, but for now it is what it is. It is called “When Percussed.”

voices flame on waves of pain stoked by persecution
when percussed they find that thus they’re bound by bonds of union

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About vancouverislandpsychosis

I am just an island girl, literally and at heart. The ocean's edge is where I find what I lost during the year, usually that is my brain. I am a fan of laughter and anyone who can laugh at his or herself. I myself need laughter to live, and of course a beach nearby.

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