Refugee No.143
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The twinkling little eyes
Lost in the crowd of the sea
No place to go on
Life is moving on mercy.
The sound of cows mooing,
The hens clucking,
And tractors turning over
The buzz of bullhorns
All left behind
Do you have the guts
To ask these drenched clothes,
Wet bags and life jackets
Our story of plight?
We lost our backpack
To the roaring sea
At this tender age we have seen
Times of tension, change and conflicts
And now struggle to find a place to live
We left our nation, national anthem
Pride of birthplace and patriotism
We have no song to sing, no place to defend
They say your refugee no.143 is very lucky
As it speaks about 'I LOVE YOU'
How can they expect me to spread the Love
when my own heart is empty?
When I am stuck in limbo, deeply moved by this ploy.
Like school attendance my number is called R.F. No 143
Yes Present, I am present here today!
God knows, where will I go tomorrow
And what will be my new R.F. Number?
Bu şiiri puanla
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