Refugees
From the dark arenas of violence,
from the shackles of oppression,
from a land reeking of the smell of blood,
they flee bloodied and bruised.
these scraps of humanity,
alienated from their moorings,
have no possessions
other than the sky above
and some inches of land to curl up
that they carry with them as they move.
before them gapes an abyss of emptiness,
disturbing them like existential absurdity.
they differ, speaking disparate tongues,
like those heard in the tower of Babel.
but they have a single identity.
they are all REFUGEES,
driven by war.
they have a single destination,
a promised land of nowhere!
…………………………………………
Nov.19.2022
A Brian Strand Premiere Choice Poetry Contest
Copyright © Valsa George | Year Posted 2022
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