A Foreigner
It is a pity how people
Treat me down here
They say I am a sojourner
This is not my home
I laugh though in pity
Remembering it is no home
Everyone is a sojourner
Waiting to hence home
Dust to dust home we be
Clay we are too hard to believe
Flesh to bone proud fool -be
Sojourner here home in dust
We are a Potter's works
His breath turned us into flesh
In the end the breath will be claimed
And the clay home where it belongs
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