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Children of the Golan

CHILDREN OF THE GOLAN Beyond the fence we shouldn't go, not even look, if we're alone, nor see some things we should't know. Our innocence has died, although, we are the children never known, and hide the we not meant to show. Out of this wasteland, what can grow, where only dust has ever blown, too where, we never even know. The Golan seems an empty show the yellows, browns of rock and stone, where we must make some flowers grow? © Ron Arbuthnot

Copyright © | Year Posted 2015




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Book: Shattered Sighs