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Poetry
An Ode to Kabul
Priyanka Chaanra
I am Kandhari,
Or so they say,
They tell me of Kabul
The cinema halls,
And the ice cream parlours,
Of streets lined with fruit trees,
Of restaurants “oh so posh”,
Of dry fruits and naan,
Of people jovial,
The riches and the bitter cold,
How I yearn to go,
But all now that is left,
Of a past so glorious,
Is rubble and ash,
Oh dear Kabul,
I wish I could see you,
And feel you my homeland.
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