16 Oct, 2020

People painted red holding tyres floating in the sea.
Photo by James Beheshti on Unsplash

Holding

When I took flight it was not with wings in the sky;
my fatal mistake was to escape across the seas.
I had no choice, but that was beside the point;
you used me as your villain in the news.
You surrendered my life as a lesson to the rest.
You stole my life for a vote to stop the boats.
For seven years I waited for a chance to land,
circling the cloudy patterns of my doubts,
detained in the lonely island of my brain.
Whenever a friend would try to guide me down
you silenced them with rules to hide the truth.
With cold intent, you left me up in the air,
for countless hours, stranded and forgotten.
As each year passed, the skies grew darker, darker;
hope was harder, harder to locate.
Stresses ate away my youth and health.
What did I do to lose my right to a home?
I cannot see a tomorrow where I’m free.
How do I survive, flying blind?
It’s been too long. I can’t hold on anymore.

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