Across the Barbed Wires
Some dream
It seems…
There’s my home,
Where clouds roam,
White as foam…
My little boy’s bawl,
Her sweet feminine call,
The rustling leaves of fall,
I hear them all…
But from across the wires,
I see the funeral pyres,
Is my house on fire?
My screams drown in quagmire,
As I bury my desires…
(A Refugee’s Delirium… My take on the refugee crisis, read from bottom to top too)
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