Sunday, November 13, 2011

Refugees

Do not worry
for the generations
to come
for they shall forget
the loss and blood;
for history
is selective
and is written
by conquerors.


Lets just hold a fistful
of soil
and weep
just a little
as we leave behind
childhoods and love songs
marriages and separations
tears and laments
of our half-lives,
while we turn overnight
into something
distant and unknown
that they call 
refugees.


Hold on to the soil and weep
for our kind, they say
are forgetful
but the land

the land
shall remember all

4 comments:

pglm said...

powerful poetry the images bounce in my head..take me to the history I forget......help my voice join in the laments of others.......invite me to pray for peace....for hope....for a world of good intentions....
very thought provoking...and excellent writing.

ghostwriter said...

"...For history
is selective
and is written
by conquerors"

How true, and sad...

Beautiful poem!

Geraldine said...

this is so beautifully written. so touching and sad...

well done Tulika. truer words have not been spoken.

www.myreallifereviews.com

sawan said...

this one has quite an effect!