His name is Bisan but they call him Dan
All alone in this world
His house for freedom he sold
But the key in his hand he still holds
His body dusted, skin and bone
His soul bewildered, yet strong
His only wish is to find where he can belong
In a new town walks a man
with no home, no identity
Only a suitcase,
his suitcase is empty.
(c) Copyright 2016 Sohail Dahdal
This is a personal poem about my journey as a refugee, and still feeling like a refugee even after many years in exile.
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