General Poetry posted June 23, 2024


The greatest movement of people in history is upon us.

Cry of a Refugee

by Barry Penfold

I walk with bombs and misery
Covered with dust and into an uncertain history
My father taken, for how long I cannot say
My mother broken but willing us to live for another day.

My days and nights pass away
Looking for a safe place to stay
but the signs say "Refugees do not pass this way"
I have nothing left, but to pray.

My dreams are of bread and rice
Oh, that would be so very nice
But instead, our camps are full of lice and vice
And many other things for which we pay a price

I look up and smile to strangers passing by
They look away as if I am a lie
And do not see me cry
If only, they would at least open an eye.

My brother lets out a cry
Hunger is the reason why
I will give him my meal, so he does not die
But soon, that will no longer apply.

It may well be, that I will find another land
But does that matter, if I cannot hold my brother's hand
Or follow my mother's footsteps in the sand
To the far away promised land.



Rhyming Poetry Contest contest entry

Recognized


Refugee numbers grow and with over 100 wars of some description raging across the world, their numbers will grow. What to do?
Pays 8 points and 57 member cents.

Artwork by Renate-Bertodi at FanArtReview.com

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© Copyright 2024. Barry Penfold All rights reserved.
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