Refugees
REFUGEES
I read of Rohingya
Thrown out of Myanmar.
In a city near Cox’s Bazar.
I remember that place.
It’s hundred-mile beach.
Its waterfalls, jungles.
Its beauty and peace.
A place where turtles
Come home to nest
Where waterfalls
Splash from on high.
Where the jungle holds sway
Over tourists at play,
On the longest sand beach
On our world.
Please tell me I’m wrong.
They are there for whose wrong?
Their own?
Or the Myanmar regime?
A city? A slum…
Yet still thousands come!
While a whole race is shown the door.
By an army upholding the law…
Is it legal to kill
For somebody’s will?
Be they Muslim or Buddhist or more?
Erase their existence,
Ignore the insistence
Of countries who don’t understand
that for National pride,
let religion decide.
Put your trust in a faith’s genocide.
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