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Poem - Falafel

Hello Poetteers,

You talk about falafel
like your own people made it
I understand you love them
I hope you continue to love them
but know it didn't originate from your own
it originated from another group of people
whose streets are filled with vendors
and fresh smells and spice
whose walls hold so much history
whose land tries to wave its own flag.

Love, Fida

For more poems like this, check out Her Olives. 

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