This poem offers a view of those with Russian citizenship who can't get away from Russia due to circumstances of finance and deprivations in right to travel both from the West and Russia.
Can I be exonerated For the crimes I never commited? There’s no one to ask, I’m afraid Which doesn’t make me uplifted And its nowhere to go, I’m unseen Cause my passport is shining too bright Unwelcomed, I see the screen But never I saw the light, Of that special hour, before the evening Covers your land, my reader No rest for the wicked, believe me Wicked isn’t me, but a leader Of lemmings with human faces Though I don’t belong to that file I never cared for rat races But for you I’m of common pile Concerning about your peace You cannot see what you’re not shown It’s not an eyesight disease But a mental thing, still unknown.
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Be the first to comment on this poem. Encourage this poet.