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


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Credit to the beekeeper of allepo, christi lefteri

The immigrant

4. The computer screen

The computer screen blinks at me

Dusty keys touched by many hands

As if inviting me

Studying my reflection

Wondering if he has replied

I think about him often

Long lost and close

I could finally speak to him

Forever it seems he was distant

Now I could touch him again

Hold him in my arms

To tell him that I love him

But what will he think of me?

Would he be dissapointed?

Unable to protect his mum

A shell of myself

Unwanting for pity or shame

I cannot bear to look

Or be looked at

Not today or any day…

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Childhood · depression · family · happy · Life · love

I’m your daddy

I’ve had the text from your mum

In 2 hours ends the fun

I’m doing the washing up

Thinking surely too much

Starting to regret and punish myself

I imagine it’s not good for my health

You’ve been with us for 12 days

And your going through a phase

It seems you’ve been punishing us

Fits, tantrums, sulks and stuff

What ever your 6 year old mind can find

What are you going to do this time?

It’s been so difficult looking after you

Not always knowing what to do.

With the baby here it’s been a big change

And for you it has to be a little bit strange

We talk to you often, try to explain

You rolling your eyes, us explaining in vein

I want us to get along, all together

But you change your mind just like the weather

I ask myself what can I do?

What is needed to help you?

Although it’s difficult and you can make me sad.

I’ll always love you cause I’ll always be your dad.


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Phil lister 21/08/17

Picture – pixabay

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