. . . Oh, my land! I didnt leave you as a tourist No paradise on earth can replace you In my body and soul In my head and heart Why am I roaming about in foreign countries? Why am I obliged to beg and hold my hands up for strangers? Why did I choose to live like a damned stateless person? Why is it in my interest to opt for the status of a cursed refugee? Oh, my land! When clans and factions attacked each other When relatives, friends and neighbours Stabbed each other in the back and belly When peace was denied and denigrated When elders were not spared When children were sent to the front When all it belched was concentrated poison That is when I had no choice But to cross the borders To seek a safe haven To save my life . . .
Posted on: Thu, 21 Aug 2014 13:57:47 +0000
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