The Search

A poem I wrote for my English creative assignment.  Had to be 500-600 words, so it’s pretty long.


This place of birth, of origin safe

Of blanket arms and dark,

Breathing embrace,

Is torn apart.

The roof is ripped off,

The foundations ablaze,

The timbers fall and crash.

It is gone.


This land was once

A haven warmed by the sun

But now it is a furnace.

Escape is not

A choice,

But a necessity.


Go now,

Do not look back.

Push through the hordes of people

That cry and stink and consume,

Stumble through the maze of stony plains

And run past the bullets,

Seeking swiftly their target.


Do not be daunted by the mountain tall,

The valley deep,

The clouds that scowl a warning.

Disregard fatigue and pain and mortality,

For they are not important.


Go now,

Do not allow borders to detain you.

And if you see what you cannot find

Here and now,

You will eventually find




Stay now, for a while,

In this country vibrant and

Full of life.

This is a place of chamge,

You will find,

With different gods and tongues and

Where weapons are mercifully scarce.

Though they will stare,

As all men do,

If you lower your eyes to the ground,

Soon you will be invisible.


But do not permit yourself


Nor too much comfort.

In this place still,

Children cry like

Baby birds with open mouths

To catch a wriggling worm.


Sadness can still be found

Within the spiced air

Of this nation.


Do not settle

But move on.



Stop here,

But for a while –

Although the streets reek

And the red flag snaps taught

On the flagpole.

Where the crowds swarm

And bite and scratch

They will not find you



Where the wind current

Whips at your face and

Tears at your hair,

Where the birds fly up

In tumultuous panic,

Where the walls have

Eyes and ears.

You may look but never stay.


Where the eerie music

And the rhythmic movement

Moves you deep within your chest,

Where the pungent food meets your lips –

This, surely, is safe.

You smile.


But someone

(A sentinel)

Watches with a frown.


You must know now

That this place is not


There is something hidden

In these walled cities,

And only when the right questions are asked

Will it bare its teeth.


Behind this border,

We have stopped now

But not arrived.



Stop here for a while.

Rest your calloused feet

On this bed of steamy jungle.

The frogs sing their songs all the same,

They are not disturbed by you.

The tiger slinks by –

A moving shape of

Disembodied stripes –

It is only curious and shall not harm.


But even this jungle has eyes.


And soon you will not see

Its greenery,

Smell the damp, mossy scent,

And the limber trunks will be

Replaced by bars.


It is all too clear now –

Only the animals will

Welcome you here.



Go now,

Cast your eyes upon this

Old, ancient map.

There are places many,

Space for every person to live.


But you are different.


To be a person,

Must you have a home?

If so,

Then you are not a person.

You must travel

With your house upon your back,

And the weighty burden that comes

With having no country.


Statesmen will frown and

Shake their heads,

Men will

Turn their backs,

But only you will know the

Weight of that burden you bear.


This place of hostility,

This world of competition

Is no place for a human being.


I wrote this based on refugees.  Tell me what you think of the style.