Across the Barbed Wires

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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