Hello everyone, here's my newest poem ππ... In class yesterday, I studied Derek Walcott's poem, 'A Far Cry from Africa': a diasporic account of the British colonial forces' atrocities in the continent of Africa. Inspired by this, my teacher asked us to write a small poem with themes of displacement and identity crisis, so I wrote the following poem. Hope you like it!
I stand on the thinly drawn border,
Neither here nor there: nowhere, yet everywhere.
Their gazes burn through me, the whispered insults slice through my defenses.
I walk to the place I call home, and yet feel homeless.
My tongue sounds strange to them,
So I mutter and fumble and learn *their* strange tongue instead.
Sometimes, my own people look at me
As if I am an alien.
Where do we go-- we, who are left adrift?
Our homes exist only in rose-coloured dreams.
For us, reality is a bed of thorns.
And so, we endure.
Beautiful
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