Refugee Poem by Jayl Morris

Refugee



Born from the womb a refugee, a tiny speck of flesh,
Grateful Mother had built no walls.

I wonder who is not a refugee as well, and decide we all are.
Though many are fervent deniers, resisting the simplest truths,
And who knew compassion would suddenly end...abruptly, coldly,
As a sudden bitter snow.
Reality seems to be unwilling to be of any comfort.

I hold myself on the shoulders and shiver to realize,
There is no path home for me, and little refuge nor rest.

And I long for my Father's embrace.

Saturday, September 7, 2019
Topic(s) of this poem: immigration
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