The Displaced Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

The Displaced

At times words,
The words used for others,
Penetrate and settle,
Like the word ‘Displaced! '

If sleep many nights,
Deep in a melting pot,
Some forget, unaware,
But few are conscious,
That they are displaced!

Joe is my best friend,
His blood and Vigen's,
Are from the same vein.

They crossed the borders,
Both were born Iranians,
Though Vigen was aware,
Unaware is the latter…

Yes, Joe is the latter,
His skin, eye color,
Show from far away.

What about children,
From my children?

Will they know about me?
Or my ex, their mother?

I think of displaced,
When talk of Joe, Vigen!

I think of displaced,
With Natives in Reserves!

I think of displaced,
Africans caught, slaved!

I think of displaced,
When cross the borders!