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Grateful by Farah Neamah
Everything feels different than I ' m used to : The trees , the grass , the buildings , the streets ; Even the air when it hits my face . I used to have trouble breathing in my country , So hot and dry . Now nothing feels the same Or looks the same : the sky is blue here , And the clouds are bright , the trees not dead , And there are so many flowers and animals . In my country , the sky was mostly beige , Sometimes light gray — not blue , like here . Compared to where I live now , I feel like I used to live in hell .