Outlanders
T. J. Overstreet
They are this continent’s displaced.
Born in a world far away, but close;
The music that lures them forward
Is a tune sung by a soulless siren; the
Mirage in the mind turns to a reality,
Bitter, yet infinitely better than the
Squalor they left.

We too were once outlanders,
Called forward by the green light
That beckoned from across the ocean.
We stole the land from those
Who refused to claim it,
And we guard it, jealously.
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