I sit here loving my homeland
Watching it be burnt, pillaged and destroyed
I look at my friends and peers and see them all running away
Massive exiles flying out of here
Could I live here again without the help of my new land?
I wouldn’t want to try
Could I have been who I am without the help of my new land?
Great question, I do not know
14 What If Years
What if I’d lived them here?
Who would I be now?
I wish I knew
Then somehow I’d know more about who I am
14 years without home
14 years where home was mystery and fairy land
Here I am again
The country’s now gone from a fairy tale into a horror story
But I found my dreams in the refuges and refugees of the past
Keeping the essence of the good country alive
And although barely surviving
Still holding the only part of it that can fulfill us to be who we are
I’m leaving for now
Back to the new land
As I walk through the streets I can feel my particles disappearing
My mind slowly leaving
Sometimes I’m happy Sometimes I’m sad
Sweet melancholy
Caught in a weird place in time
Where I am in two homes
But neither at the same time
And yet both so fully
Who am I?
My people are here and there
And me? Where am I?
I am both
Which parts? I am only beginning to tell
I love them both
One more human in an age of movement
