>>>>>>>>>> Poetry by Atheana <<<<<<<<<<
The Refugee (ode to the war in Ukraine)
The refugee
that's me
Never would you have guessed
that I too was once blessed
Or that I once had a home
and family to call my own
Yes, I used to have a life
with my children and my wife
Until the day it was decided
by morons united
To invade and take away
my home, my world, my family
The day the tanks rolled in
and my home became a ruin
As the bombs began to fall
and the drones destroyed it all
Bombs designed for mass destruction
but it wasn't enough for buildings to fall
No these would bring death by poison
a painful end to it all
Gone would be our safety and security
to be replaced with senseless brutality
Never knowing what tomorrow would bring
only that it would be harrowing
I used to be whole
until they came along and stole
All I cherished and held dear
leaving only dread and fear
I worked so hard to build a good life you see
at nights I studied to earn a degree
And then the bombs upon us they did drop
and life as we knew it came to a stop
Where I once used to be warm and dry
now I live in a tent where children cry
No longer with anything to call my own
wet and chilled to the very bone
Now the world looks down upon me
an unwanted reminder of what could be
Not caring that I once stood tall
or how I was before I lost it all
Gone is my dignity, gone is my pride
how can I now hold my head up high?
When you lose everything you once ever had
when all you own fits into one plastic bag
So now my brethren and I have become
a problem, a vagabond, a homeless bum
Go back! they shout to where you belong
no matter who is right or who is wrong
Do not bring your problems into our world
otherwise insults at you we will hurl
To let you in would only be a drain
a scourge, a burden, an unwanted pain
Who'd have thought this could happen to me
a college professor in my own country
Now I am but a problem at best
to parcelled out ... north, south, east and west
My country used to be my home
one to which you might even have come
Now I live in a city made of tents
they call it the jungle, makes perfect sense
When will I leave here, where will I roam
Will I ever again have a place to call home?
that's me
Never would you have guessed
that I too was once blessed
Or that I once had a home
and family to call my own
Yes, I used to have a life
with my children and my wife
Until the day it was decided
by morons united
To invade and take away
my home, my world, my family
The day the tanks rolled in
and my home became a ruin
As the bombs began to fall
and the drones destroyed it all
Bombs designed for mass destruction
but it wasn't enough for buildings to fall
No these would bring death by poison
a painful end to it all
Gone would be our safety and security
to be replaced with senseless brutality
Never knowing what tomorrow would bring
only that it would be harrowing
I used to be whole
until they came along and stole
All I cherished and held dear
leaving only dread and fear
I worked so hard to build a good life you see
at nights I studied to earn a degree
And then the bombs upon us they did drop
and life as we knew it came to a stop
Where I once used to be warm and dry
now I live in a tent where children cry
No longer with anything to call my own
wet and chilled to the very bone
Now the world looks down upon me
an unwanted reminder of what could be
Not caring that I once stood tall
or how I was before I lost it all
Gone is my dignity, gone is my pride
how can I now hold my head up high?
When you lose everything you once ever had
when all you own fits into one plastic bag
So now my brethren and I have become
a problem, a vagabond, a homeless bum
Go back! they shout to where you belong
no matter who is right or who is wrong
Do not bring your problems into our world
otherwise insults at you we will hurl
To let you in would only be a drain
a scourge, a burden, an unwanted pain
Who'd have thought this could happen to me
a college professor in my own country
Now I am but a problem at best
to parcelled out ... north, south, east and west
My country used to be my home
one to which you might even have come
Now I live in a city made of tents
they call it the jungle, makes perfect sense
When will I leave here, where will I roam
Will I ever again have a place to call home?
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The Refugee (ode to the war in Ukraine)
The Refugee (ode to the war in Ukraine)
