Do you ever want to go home I asked Paul.He brushed an ash from my face. Its the century of the displaced person he said. You can never go home.

Do you ever want to go home I asked Paul.
He brushed an ash from my face. Its the century of the displaced person he said. You can never go home.
Janet Fitch

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I hadnt understood at the time. If sinners were so unhappywhy would they prefer their suffering But now I knew why.
Without my wounds who was I My scars were my face my past
was my life.
- Janet Fitch
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You were my home Mother. I had no home but you
- Janet Fitch

Do you ever want to go home I asked Paul.He brushed an ash from my face. Its the century of the displaced person he said. You can never go home. Janet Fitch

Do you ever want to go home I asked Paul.
He brushed an ash from my face. Its the century of the displaced person he said. You can never go home.
Janet Fitch