Refugee (child)
Whilst
His body lay in the earth,
His eyes saw the angels
Hovering over holding his little wings
His soul left smoothly the clay
His fragile body full of gore
Got tired of being embraced by
Hate, violence and starve
By being clasped to choke
By the dust of war
By the rejected roads
By the fluid dis-ease
By the feelings of void
…
He was eager to go, be free
From the load of the clay
His tormented soul rests
Breathes a sacred air
And got the clasp of heaven
He’s now on cloud nine-
A sight for sore eyes.
So-calledpoetry of Biba
So-called Poetry of Biba 