Poem: The Refugee

I based this poem loosely on my mum’s experience of war and becoming a refugee during the Balkan wars in the 1990’s. However I feel as though this piece can be read and appreciated by anyone who has been affected by the horrors of war and the changes that come with it. 


At the end of my street stands the lamp post under which I had my first kiss,

The bombs wiped that lamp post away with just one hit.

The cafe opposite my school is where we’d skip class and cause trouble,

There’s nothing left of that cafe now but rubble.

That September I was to begin my University degree,

Instead I had become a refugee.

I packed enough clothes for two weeks away,

Who knew then I’d be gone for a decade.

The day I left my home the sky was shedding tears,

Bullet holes and raindrops mixed with people’s fears.

So there I stood, scared, in a new country all alone,

It was then that I realised I had no choice but to grow.

War is something you see in books and films,

It’s different when you know the people being killed.

It’s funny how they say time flies when you’re having fun,

For me it seemed as though time flew whilst on the run.


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