Refugees
They want us to leave.
They say it's too dangerous.
Neighbor killing neighbor
In the middle of the night.
Who can you trust?
Nobody.
You never know what will happen.
So the neighbors and I
And my family
Gather our belongings and leave.
The village behind us
Quiet
Gives the effect of an empty house,
Where the last remaining person
Has died.
But nobody will know for weeks.
We walk on
Miles upon miles
With frightened children crying,
Old people dying, and the tired
Needing sleep.
We walk on.
Others join our people train.
Walking through rough terrain,
Walking through woods and snow,
Through frozen streams
We go on.
Everyone has a story to tell.
I think,
'Dear God! What could be worse than this?
This is our hell.
I'm paying for crimes
I did not even commit.'
We walk on.
We walk on.
The war has started,
And,
We walk on.
poem by Rabia Minhas
Added by Poetry Lover
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