A Glass Of Milk and A Cup Of Tea

srizals@gmail.com

I grow up in a home like no other,
Playing with dust without any cover,
The heat, the smell, so crowded, like a murky river,
Never seen any oil, nor taste the classy duck's liver.

I asked a lady with an empty face,
Why did we end up in such a forsaken place?
She stared at me with eyes without any grace,
This is our god given right to die in disgrace.

I went on walking in a circle called home,
Asking if someone could lend me a phone,
I need to call my uncles, my cousins, know that I'm not alone,
What would ever they would say that I've lost my throne.

I sat alone in a rubble that looks like a home,
My mother gave me a glass of milk and she took a cup of tea,
I asked her like yesterday, when would we ever go home?
She said son, when they had returned back to the sea,
Or accept us as their brethren and end this lunacy.

So I took my glass of milk, and watched my mother drank a cup of tea,
Sorry to be so rude and shout always angrily,
In being so terrible for the sake of you.

So I crawled back alone to my hole quietly,
And end your misery for having to watch me.