The Pretty Refugees Of Our Time Poem by MOHAMMAD SKATI

The pretty refugees Are greatly scattered Like pieces of stones everywhere, Their houses are these tiny tents, The dark caves, and under the green wood trees, They die a million of times everyday And they're good neighbors of scorpions and snakes, Their poor kids suffer all kinds of deprivation And the horrible misery in the camps of shame, They suffer all kinds of human sufferings and Pains anywhere, anytime, and everywhere, so They are hopeless and desperate because The world has turned its back to them.