Best Refugee Poems
Consider
the refugee:
Reduced to flee;
hazarding all upon the…
See?
The Voyage of a Refugee
He gave of his heart,
As he shared of his woe,
When a voyage in a boat,
For freedom, he did go.
It was not a choice,
To leave his country behind.
Death was the option,
While hope, lay the other side.
But what a story,
He did tell.
That voyage on the boat,
Was a living hell!
Little food and water,
He prayed for rain,
Watched the birds circle above,
Waiting for death again.
The fish knew to stay,
Close by the side.
They knew easy food,
This boat could provide.
Whose turn was next?
It mustn't be mine.
They knew, full well,
Many wouldn't make it in time.
There's much I can't tell,
Too horrific to say,
All imprinted in memories,
As nightmares replayed.
But there's one thing I can say,
Now a refugee, I've met,
The hell of his journey,
I'll never forget.
He crouches behind a false wall…hoping, praying,
Listening carefully to the commotion outside.
A knock on the door, another, two more!
They kick the door in and storm inside.
Men with rifles, boys with guns,
Searching, preying, abducting, killing,
They turn over the table and kick over a few chairs,
As they search every nook and corner of the building.
Finding nothing they eventually leave,
He heaves a sigh of relief
He looks at his wife, tears streaming down her face,
They nod in agreement, it is time to leave.
As night draws near, they sneak outside,
Scanning the place for the infidels.
He carries a rucksack, it’s all that they have,
A few clothes, some photos and some medicine.
She follows along, her son in her arms,
They make their way to the sea shore;
They stop in their tracks, their hearts skips a beat…
A gunshot, another, two more!
A man walks towards them, a gun in his hand,
They kneel, he comes in a little closer;
He asks where they are going, they don’t say a word
The child starts crying, they think it’s all over.
Then the man asks them to follow him,
They stand up and do as they are told.
He takes them to a place where there stands a boat,
He takes all their money and asks them to get aboard.
A few hours later, the silence breaks...
A scream, another, two more!
The boat is sinking they jump in the water,
Their life-jackets barely keep them afloat.
A woman beside them struggles to swim,
He takes off his life-jacket and gives it to her,
He asks his family to keep on swimming,
He promises to meet them on the shore.
Later that day she waits on the beach,
A body washes up, another, two more!
She cries as she hugs her dear little boy,
He should be proud, his dad was a hero.
They turn and start walking towards the city
Refugees, aliens, total unknowns;
Some strangers walk up to help them
A new friend, another, two more.
-I wrote this poem based on the true stories of refugees, that have been highlighted on the Facebook page, "Humans Of New York". I want to dedicate this to all those going through the current refugee crisis. Our prayers are with you.
The voice of a refugee
What happened to this world?
So beautiful in the past
The rivers lakes and oceans
And fragrance of the grass
And now the land is barron
It's no more fertile
I hope that the plants grow
Once again for a while
What happened to our society
So generous in the past
Now there is terror
Scaring the mass
Aware of all around me
but one thing I could not stand
It was worse than I could see
Women being beaten up
Children badly tortured
Level of terror rising up
No one's being nurtured
I want to change this
And bring back humility
Return the nature's bliss
And bring back prosperity
Then I realised that
I should be the change I want to see
To bring back that ball and bat
Instead of guns and artillery
I want to live freely
And not be so confined
It's not easy being a refugee
No house to live and place to find
It's my request to the world
To please help me
To be the change I want to see
And again be free
We were free and safe
Facing the challenges of life
In much more desirable manner
We were at least happy
For the peace we were enjoying
On our land of birth; our homeland
We never anticipated this at all
That war would tear us apart
And leave us miserable this way
We witnessed so powerlessly
Our brothers and sisters brutalized
Our homes and properties burnt
And then followed our displacement
We have hopes but in despair
We cried peace but in bloodshed
That oh, we’d better seek refuge
We run for our dear lives
Hunting for safety across the borders
Our dreams seems direly shattered
As we saw our children butchered
While there was nothing we could do
What is happening?
A little girl asked the mother
Our lives are in danger,
Answered the victimized mother
Where are we going then?
Another child asked the father
We are running to seek for safety
Answered the desperate father
What about our homes?
And what about our homeland?
An elder boy thought deep within
Where is the collective security?
That guarantees our safety and surety?
Why are they killing our people?
Why all these humiliations and brutalities?
So who is the cause and to be blamed then?
We must not accept this indictment
We must have a far fairer dream
And we must wake to the challenge
We can’t afford this victimization
Just one wish do I wish to accomplish
Yes! To return home blessed day
The guns kept rattling
The soldiers kept battling
My people kept dying
As the bombs kept flying
We have lost everything
Except for some few lives
So who gains from these pains?
And who deserve the blames?
Thanks to the international community
For their supports and sympathy
Now that our hopes seems lost
All we are praying for is total calm
So we can sail free and safe in the storm
We want prevailing peace to reign
To clamp down the war campaign
That we may return home; our wish
And put together every piece in peace
The time is right; the light is bright
We shall realize our beautiful dreams
And we shall accomplish our wishes
Yes! We shall accomplish this one wish
To return home one blessed morning
( Poem about Kurdish Iranian teenager attacked in Croydon)
Refugee boy
Just 17
Yet your eyes have seen so much
Now so far from home and loved ones
You thought you were free from danger
In your land of refuge
Life was routine again
College and a visit to the teahouse on the way home
It was familiar, cosy
You said you were lucky you were here
Just before…
A pack of ‘hyenas’ set upon you
You had invaded their ‘territory’
Drunk and vicious subhuman dregs of society
They kicked your slender frame
Again, again and again
They cracked your skull, your spine
And left you for dead
Some ‘hyenas’ circled
Watched and jeered
You are stronger than them
They could not break your spirit
You were meant to live, Godspeed
Born into suffering
Born to be malnourished
Born in the bush
Born on the run
Born under the umbrella of poverty
Born to be a refugee
Born in the middle of despair
Born in worries
Born in the frightful time
Born with the horrified blood
Son of the scream
Daughter of bombs
Sister of landmines
Brother of war tanks
Grandson of affliction
Born to see death at infancy
Born to either die or escape death by a nose
Son of the land of chaos
Daughter of the nation of affliction
Born to suckle sorrow
Born to be a refugee in his own land
Born to be a refugee in her own land
Born to suffer at infancy
Born to worry of chaos and admire peace which won’t come soon
The tears of a South Sudanese child
Corpses wash up on a distant shore
Crowded train station shelters
Psychological trauma
Personal needs of children
Go begging in the rain
The dream of freedom
Keeps hope alive
How many will survive?
Refuse to be a Refugee
?Would we refuse to be a refugee?
Share things between you and me;
Never will I say what's the use;
In my mind, remove the refuse.
Must become aware of the fact,
Life has things that do detract,
But God who is always willing,
Aids us and dreams are fulfilling.
Cynthia Buhain Baello can be like forsythia,
Flowering and sweet like ambrosia,
And also even much better yet,
Smile which I will never forget.
James Serious Mysterious Horn
Retired Veteran and Poet
Variety is the spice of life
At least that's what they say..
We celebrate different colours
Yet the world still chooses grey
There's room for different flavours
Whether green leaf, pulse or grain
Banana loaf or carrot cake?
Nutrition stays the same
The truth it seems is constant
With the source identified;
Humans - not so different
On this planet we reside
As this year rumbles onwards
I throw love into the mix;
Not to colourise the whole world
Just my local bit to fix
No longer are we separate sides
Of some bridge-less, gaping fissure..
Maybe same-ness is the spice of life
As we share more than we differ.
One does not tremble before a man she esteems
Certainly not before the one she finds dignified
No; it would be contrary to Mother Nature herself
It is before a dangerous man that one trembles!
And it is from a murderous man that one flees!
There are times when storms rage and rivers swell
Times, too, when earth quakes strike remorselessly
Times when the sun bakes all around it wickedly
And there are times when a conflagration occurs
Rendering man, woman, child and beast rootless
If one could control the winds and arrest the tsunami
Many a stranded woman would not have left home
If one could summon the rain clouds to donate a tear
In regular fashion and without undue discrimination
Even Darfur and Ethiopia and Arabia would rejoice
Is she from Mars that you should call her alien?
Is she a child of a beast that you should deny her?
Did she choose to be born poor that you should shun her?
Oh lucky children in Europe and America and elsewhere!
Find in your golden hearts room for just one more refugee!
A Refugee
He had been given a lift by a Lithuanian truck driver
to a little town in inland Norway where the winter
starts in September and is cold and unforgiven as its
inhabitants. The truck driver had given him money
for coffee, and cigarettes.
Not dressed for winter this swarthy unshaven Levant
perhaps Iraq, a flotsam from a war caused by black
stuff that came up from the earth and cursed them.
He walked into the railway station had a coffee but sat
So long a guard came and told him to leave.
In the waiting room, he felt strange, sweated needed air
went outside to cool down and collapsed, pneumonia and
lack of nutrition an ambulance arrived people gathered
Around, bloody refugees get everything for free someone
in the crowd murmured.
Amid, amid, amid, amid,
In the middle,
Between never and everlasting,
A haven for people idle,
A place that never is.
Began and built in imagination,
By ones who avoid
The cheap price of success,
Yet convinced they belong to success.
And they fall free to an imagination.
Calling the world unfair,
They become unfair to themselves.
Average... noise so mute,
Attractive albeit neuter.
No man's choice,
No woman's choice,
What no man chooses,
That's not chosen,
That which exists dependent,
Weary of good extremity,
Shy of feats are you Mr./Mrs. Average.
Sometime, One day,
Your place will grow fire
And you, the refuge of many
Will take refuge extreme.
Those to whom success is strange,
To whom failure is a never go,
What shall decorate your death?
True men die beautiful, joyful,
All efforts employed,
Owing nothing to the world.
Thing one
Success and failure are friends,
They come and go together.
To live average is to live a coma,
Absent in the universe.
A refugee who offers refuge
Means two-times death.
Revive memory, recover glory.
Way to go, give you for free:
The light at the end,
Deceiving it usually be,
Bravery, confidence is the tool,
Hold firm onto virtue,
Principle principal
In a battle won at conception.
Overcome seduction of incidence,
Run towards misfortune, failure,
The black that obscures hope.
Win the big enemy at the beginning,
Live good everlasting.
Leave the middle, play at the edges,
Where man makes choice.
Far from the refugee camp, from average,
All are free, failing or succeeding,
Each given to elect,
Would elect freedom.
None is wrong to do.
Bedridden hopes
Tears
Blood
War and violence push you so moderate
Through deserts of horror and desolation
Your innocence of tortured and desperate
Child deprived of any play and consolation
Limited plays have now been stopped by your tears
Wounded by snares of atrocities and fears
Afraid you rushed to your mother always near
But one day you no longer found her hug here
Unknown designs of wickedness and death
Carved in your young mind with undefined depth
To lead your innocence of child in despair
Towards tears nobody seems to be aware
Seas separate your solitary soul
From innocence and joy yet to extol
Joy and hope unaware to play a role
Forget the restless war hard to control
Gunfire around taking lives as a knife
Menacing the refugee camps and life
One day you wanted to leave the damned strife
Joining a refugee caravan at the age of five
Waiting for you an unknown and blue sea
Shouting from children aiming to be free
On a boat overcrowded to an extreme degree
Desperate cries of babies who disagree
The stench of a lifeboat burnt by the hot sun
Flooded with moisture and pierced by a gun
Floating on desperation from shores to shun
Hope of elsewhere alive through bites of a bun
Now the cool breeze of present and peaceful countries
Framed by courteous horizons and olive trees
Scented by flowers and designed by flies of bees
Seagulls floating on peaceful and emerald seas
The peace of skies and the landed queue
Disembark on shores here to welcome you
As a child who is worth of caring eyes
And a warming love which has full supplies