The immigrant

5. For my son

Sometimes I wish i could continue walking for an eternity

Searching forever for light

But knowing even if I crossed chasms

Seas and mountains

To the furthest reach of the world

I would never again find light

Because light has left me

And darkness will surround me


My son

I have only a photo

And the memories in my mind

If I was to ever lose them

Every time I close my eyes

I see him playing with his marbles

Eating his favourite food

Kissing his mother

Itching his arm when he wanted something

I still remember his voice

His sweet voice

His laugh when I told him a joke

I even miss seeing how he cried

When we comforted him

My god, you will decide for me

When it will be time

When I can hold my son’s hand again

I remember seeing those bastards

How they laughed

Down by the river bank

Pissing in the water

I took a discarded rifle

And I took aim

There were three of them

I could feel the air

Whistling ever so softly

I laid down on my chest

Out of their view

But close enough

I positioned myself

My breath faint

My eyes dry from the tears

I will make you suffer you fucks

And it won’t be quick

I had lost my family

My son

My reason to live

I focused on the one with his gun

For my family you fuck


Pick up my book Rhyming poetry to change your day – available here

Don’t forget to leave a review, have a great day!

Credit to the beekeeper of allepo, christi lefteri

One thought on “5. For my son

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