LOST

[Maureen K Clifford]

LOST


There’s no way home from here, I fear his next of kin are lost
on oceans rolling turgid swells the little boat was tossed.
They hoped that we would open doors. A fanciful idea
for now our hearts have turned to stone and they’re not welcome here.
The gift of kindness, scanty now – we offer roof and bread
but put them into hardwired camps with guards, not hearts that bled.
They spend their days now gazing out at freedom so elusive
whilst interred miles from anywhere, their new home quite exclusive.

And had they realized when they tried desperately to flee
their homeland that a warm effusive welcome would not be
waiting on their arrival, would they perhaps have thought twice?
Or thought perhaps that nowhere in the world these days is nice.
For all the major countries are on terrorist alert
our buses, planes and trains a target. People will be hurt.
Beware the one who tries to breach our tight security,
beware the one of different race whose face we often see.

And so we build these walls designed to keep terrorists out
but in the process lose our affability – no doubt.
We see through jaundiced eyes now and are less inclined to greet
those folk who just might need a smile upon our busy streets.
Yes we have lost our innocence and with it so much more.
We’re not the friendly nation that we were once renowned for.
There’s no way home from here I fear for innocence has gone
and taken freedom with it for which men fought hard and long.


Maureen Clifford © 01/13