Refugee

People debate the refugee issue as if those involved were only objects. I wrote this to show the human face that lies behind

I grew up far away from here, in a distant foreign land
A land gripped long by the iron fist of a brutal leaders hand
The bloated dead a familiar sight, shoes empty by the roadside
Death and rape flowed freely with the tears my people cried
We found my father and brother sprawled headless in the mud
The bullet holes they gaped like eyes, whilst shedding tears of blood

All i want is freedom for those that live within my heart
The dream of an escape, and fantasies of a new start
I want to flee the land of blood and tears that i call home
And maybe in a new land then we won’t feel so alone

We sold all that we owned to flee these stained and blood soaked shores
A nightmare trip of fear and thirst, in shipping crates and cargo stores
The elderly were first to go, too frail and weak to stand the heat
Days spent close with bodies ripe still wakens me from sleep
And then the hatch was opened, soldiers in the blinding sun
And all i remember thinking was we’d finally found freedom

What have i done but dream a life to which everyone aspires ?
Is a life lived without constant fear an unreachable desire ?
I came to be somebody, but this number stole my name
I came in fear I’d lose my life, but i lost it all the same

Processed and then locked up in a chain link prison hell
The world outside has now become a fable that we tell
Days turned into weeks, the weeks turned into months and years
My cell mate is desperation, and all we’re fed upon are fears
Waiting for a visa, or to maybe be sent home
Where the bullets will be waiting, its a sentence set in stone
And maybe that’s preferable to this limbo of slow death
Where a little of your sanity is lost with every breath
For lately i’ve been staring at the razor in my hand,
thinking maybe freedoms something I won’t find on earth or land

Reviews

[gabrielle]

This piece gave me goosebumps.

It reminded me of the time when a boat arrived at our shore full of Vietnamese friends- young and old- all very frail, malnourished and heavily sun-burnt. I gawked at them out of curiosity. I guess, i was too young to understand then. They were provided food and i was told that they were sent to Puerto Princesa, Palawan wherein they were given temporary shelter. That temporary shelter is known as Viet Village. I got a chance to visit that place couple of years ago but i did not see any Vietnamese there anymore as most of our Vietnamese friends, who used to dwell on the place, had returned to their home country, some migrated while others already established their own businesses in nearby cities.
This is a very poignant, dark and well-penned piece.

[anartao]

Thank you for your review. It is my first one, and it is great to get some positive feedback. I just hope this poem can help put a different perspective on a complex and difficult issue