It started when they spat at me,

And former pals made it quite clear

That I should not enjoy life here.

 

They cried: ‘go home’. This is my home!

I know of nowhere else to be,

But that won’t stop them taunting me.

 

For years my parents played the game:

They had turned into diehard fans

Of all the leader’s cunning plans.

 

But this will never be enough;

You may sing songs and joke like them,

But each divergence they’ll condemn..

 

He’s gone, my last and loyal friend.

Embarrassed, he tried to explain;

Now from the crowd he’ll curse our name.

 

We have a path for our escape;

They say it’s safe some other place,

But will we dare to show our face?