My Poems-Proses-Lyrics, Social Awareness

The prose of an immigrant

The prose of an immigrant

The freedom to spread my wings towards a land of freedom
A chance to know the real meaning of living without fright
Risking my life to escape violence, hatred and poverty.

It was none of my intention to snatch the food out of the mouth of your children
Am not hear to be an aggressor to your people
Nor to take your job

I only want to live on a land freed from oppression and violence
And flee like a free bird up upon the sky.

The place that saw me birth
The faces that saw me grow up
The ground that I love so much
The air that I loved to breath
Has become our place of torture
A jail of constant fear.

Do you think that I love to leave all my hearts behind?
Risking my life trespassing place of dangers and uncertainties
Just to be another stranger in a foreigner land

How endangered, pitiful and full of miseries
Were our life on our corrupted, violent and impoverished land?
We had to run away like thieves
Thieves that were like beggars.

Our heart breaks with every step we make far from our own
We curse these faces that were supposed to protect their people
We spit on those that made us flee our beloved land
Their only work was to protect their people
Their sole function was to bring their land towards prosperity
But they chose corruption, money and backstabbing their people
Over protecting us.

Dictatorship, torture, poverty, danger
That’s what leaders of nothing
Have put us in
Forgetting their people
To satisfy their own thirst of power.

Are we only a bunch of cattle to these leaders?
Are we not humans?
Don’t we need protection like a little baby that came to be born?

The role of a government is to protect the citizens
The role of a government is to bring their country towards prosperity
The role of a government is to act as a god for the citizens
The role of a government is the same as a mother or a father
The role of a government is to do anything for the wellbeing of their citizens

I have to run away for my life and for the ones I love
No matter what, it’s better than dying under the blows and the weight of poverty.

Today under a black sky of a trillion of thousand stars
I will become an immigrant in a country that will never be mine
With a language that I will never talk fluently
And forever dreaming of my land of birth.

Christa.


(image source)

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11 thoughts on “The prose of an immigrant”

  1. Sometimes in life, one comes to a point where you want to wail and cry like a baby just for once. But then, that is weirdly the only time you find that you ever lost your voice. At such moments you would seek to find your voice in everything and everyone around you only to realize no one hears you.
    This poem is beautiful. Really, I think many millions can find their voice in your words. Thanks for sharing.

    Liked by 2 people

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