migrants (Remove filter)
Lampedusa
This is where they come from:
villages eaten up by sand
river beds run dry
lands of red earth stained with blood
where there are mobs, bombs, bullets,
crops that fail.
This is who they are:
the young, the desperate, the brave,
fathers with daughters, motherless sons,
whose sin was to be born poor
worship the wrong body
bow before the wrong...
Monday 7th October 2013 8:56 am
Recent Comments
Stephen Atkinson on The Poem Of Life
31 minutes ago
Martin Elder on Call me soon
1 hour ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on for the Unbroken
1 hour ago
Yanma Hidayah on Between Morning and Night
2 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on HAIKU DON BHLIAIN 2025 [UIMHIR A TRÍ DÉAG]
2 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Bread and Roses
3 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Haiku for 2025 [N. 12 KNEECAP]
4 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Forget-Me-Not
4 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Reference in Rhyme
4 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Life in blues.
4 hours ago