The City
a poem by Betty Tureaud
I have packed my suitcase
walk out the door without looking back
Leaving hopelessness and take the bus
to the city
With the hope of a better life
I stand in the dust, waiting for the door to open
on the way to the city
My last money is used for a plane ticket
Hope and uncertainty awaits me in the foreign
I am on my way without looking back
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