After the First World War
there floated a sea of stateless people
who drifted from border to border,
flotsam of the war, each reaching out
to find somewhere to call their own;
displaced by everyone as they tried
to adopt a homeland,
a place they could call their own.
Etched on each face was the agony
they felt being turned away
everywhere they went.
This flotsam of war.
10 November 2010
Author’s Note:
It is hard to believe that millions of people were displaced and wandered the borders of Europe for years after the First World War. However, it is true and history does record it.
DVH
November 2010
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem