The refugees

The refugees 


My children were born but no one saw , 

My country heading into war .

They live amongst craters, bullets and dust ,

Huge metal structures turning to rust.

How can I feed them , what do I say?

It’s not even safe to go out and play.

Food is sparse and so is water,

How do I console a crying daughter?

I’ve heard them say , on the grape vine,

That there is a land of honey and wine.

Where my children will be safe and fed,

And free from harm when they lie in their bed.

The journey is hard and full of danger,

But danger for us is not a stranger.

Is the risk, a risk worth taking ?

Another bomb my children are shaking.

What to do? There is no choice,

When the rest of the world can’t hear my voice.

For the sake of our lives we must go,

And shield ourselves against the foe.

If we get there, they will welcome us in,

To turn away children would be a sin.

We are not a threat to you and yours,

We don’t have weapons , sharp teeth or claws .

We have nothing to give our new found friends ,

Just tales of a conflict that never ends.

Valerie Coleman
May 1 2020

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