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My Plane Window
the plane has started down the runway
everything rushes past
i want to stand up and scream,
"stop!
turn around!
let me off!"
it takes a gargantuam effort
to keep my mouth
shut
just outside my window
i see a wave breaking
there is a yearning in my stomach
for the open ocean
home isn't where you're from
it's where you make it
i have made this place my home
and i am being uprooted
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I wrote this on an airplane, as I flew away from the place I had called my home. It was probably close to midnight and I had been crying since the plane took off. This poem is for anyone who has been uprooted like me.