Refugee Poem by Sharmila Ray

REFUGEE 1



They boundaried you with double-razor wire
they called you refugee-number on a card
they scorched your identity with hate and fire
yet they’re your saviour malevolent and hard.




REFUGEE 2


They grilled and hounded you
till you’re a faceless face
they made you stand in a meandering queue
your eyes sightless surveying the space.



























REFUGEE 3


You can be distressed or whatever
learning a new language to cope
staying in Abu Gharib in hot weather
your soul black even with a soap.












REFUGEE 4


Your open arms can only be a gesture
homesickness, no no emotion for you
it can only be a suggestion, a texture
in a world lopsided and new.





















REFUGEE 5


You feel cold shrinking and dying
in every nerves, veins and bones
while they say you’re lying
over a meeting with tea and scones.











REFUGEE 6


Half wondering under the tea coloured sky
host to million scavenging red-brown mites
holding a dead baby and questioning why
when you’ve forfeited your natural rights.





















REFUGEE 7


Over vast and drying flat land
home was somewhere you had to walk alone
even then you failed, no outstretched hand
frost and arthritis marinating every bone.