Somewhere in the world
The mattress is comfortable, our neighbours are kind –
they gave us some spare clothes to wear –
our Father went over to the promised land –
he told us he’d wait for us there.
We packed our bags, we gave all of our belongings –
to the people who lived in our street –
we prepared all our papers, our passports, some food –
with our clothes and the shoes on our feet.
He’d gone on before us, told us we’d start a new life –
he applied for asylum, and was accepted –
but an order came down, from someone high above –
it said “your application has now been rejected.”
They turned us around and they sent us back –
from the airport, where our papers were taken –
to my sister, I said “there is something wrong, –
perhaps our dear Father is mistaken.”
So now here we are, my sister is crying –
I am eight but she’s only five –
back in the country from where we were trying to flee –
with our neighbours, keeping us alive.
I am scared but my younger sister is worse –
she is banging her head on the wall –
there is no one to help us until my father succeeds –
in finding a safe place for us all.
Our neighbours, our friends, they want to come with us –
“Please take me with you,” my best friend has said –
my father reminded us, we cannot stay here –
if we do we will surely be dead.
“This country I’ve found means freedom”, he told us –
he showed us the flag he’d unfurled –
but we now cannot go there, we must find another place –
another place, somewhere in the world.
© copyright – Stephen Newman 2020