Refugee Poem by Harj Rabke

Challenges
Like one thousand crystals of salt on the tip of your tongue
You hold it in
How dare you raise your voice?
You do not belong here.

Here
The place you thought was home
A window, a door
Is a coat closet
For the plains are not boundless

I wish we were hand in hand
But you insist on burning and burying bridges
That I have spent years building
Still, my palms reach for
Pavlova, Freddos, Tomato Sauce,
Tolerance

How can I be Australian?
When you can't pronounce my last name
When you can't accept who I am
When you tell me to leave my values behind like forgotten lunch in the fridge
I'm starving to death

Starving for the taste of life
My culture, my customs, my life
My blood, my sweat,
My home, my Australia, my right
I deserve to be here- just like you.
This is our home,
Our Australia,
Our right.

I will keep knocking on your door until you let me in.
And if you wish to visit me,
My door is always listening, always open.