Kweku Atta Crayon

(17th October,1990 / Prestea-Western Region of Ghana)

Call Me A Refugee


Gun cracks behind our windows
An alarm to say wake up, is your turn
Woke up with a weeping heart
but hardened eyes

Children wailing from distances
Away from armed Fathers
The CNN reported 'grief'
Just don't describe the moment
Because no word can.

Mum sleeps in cold bed of blood
Wake up! Wake up! ! Wake up! ! !
The more I call her name
The further her spirit moves away

Paaaw, a loud gunshot
My younger brother has been shot
He is dying behind me
But in front of Dad
Beside Dad is the commander

I ululate for mercy
but my cry travelled 1m long
Stopped by a heavy slap

Caught glance with Mama Zolie
She said in tears, they are all dead
As if I didn't hear her
No longer news

Four Days of thirstiness
A vegetarian turned Vampire

Escape as a refugee
My first experience of earth
My first taste of home
Freedom', such a strange word
Mummy, brothers come! ! ! and see
Here, Soldiers are peace makers

Call me a Refugee
that's the best name I ever enjoyed.

Submitted: Thursday, July 11, 2013
Edited: Friday, July 12, 2013
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