A refugee week poem: The journey

Refugee Week – Poem dedicated to refugees:
Ready, Aim, Fire
The gun releases death on to the innocent
Withdraw, turn, March
The murderers kick aside the still corpse
In the sea of blood lay all I loved.
The pain of loss refused to be evicted
The image of death forever stamped in my mind

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Poem: Home?

But now that woman has grown old and feeble,
Not being able to see her country turn back to gold.
Her mind and heart at rest.
She smiles and says:
‘Yes finally I am in my home, Somaliland’.

King of the Endz

My mum says I am a dealer
My boys say I am the man
Mum says I am a disgrace
Boys say I am the boss
My mum says study
But my teacher knows I am not going anywhere.
My mum shouts change
But what other choices are there?