our home

In the land I live,

dogs are no security,

guns are the “alpha and omega,”

combats are the honor

Justice is the speculative dreams,

like acacia trees,

Home are not ours, brothers are not ours,

land and our home do not belong to us.

Nevertheless, IDP camps are the only freedom we know….

 

Well! We like it the way  it is

Because we are ignorance of the outside world,

It’s the only home we ever tested,

the heaven we have ever seen

More like the cave of death,

or  valley of stranded oceans.

 

Brutality is our enjoyment

Starving is the pride as well as to lived

is a curse for the marginalize.

Like cassava in the cooking pot

We survive the heat but not our fate.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Related entries

MY 15 YR OLD PSYCHOTIC BREAK POEM

All I know is my truth and at 16 I was in a substance induced psychosis...and I got this

THE BURDEN OF TOO MUCH AWARENESS

Have you ever been so aware of you self that you felt like you've lost your self?

Love

love

Love

love

Love

love