Reflection On The Mesopotamian Americans

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Clear as the sky when reflected upon The Rivers separating the lands. Living as though I am The Mesopotamia protected by your two hands. All kinds of itinerants and conquerors, I used to be under their commands. I, though, never left you or moved away for I am forever bound to your strands. Repeatedly you were damaged by them, they’ve put you through what no one can withstands. Elegantly, despite it all, you’re still flowing, indifferent of the conflicts and the world’s plans.
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