-
-
BORDER – LINE
- About
two miles short of the border-line
- They are coming in rows nine by nine,
- Sounds of gunshots in the air
- Bullets are flying everywhere
-
- How
can sincere patriotic duty?
- Be usurped into such misery,
- Did my country lie to me?
- To enrage such animosity
-
- Running
and running I’m out of breath
- Dehydrating from this massive sweat,
- Determined is the enemy
- Hell bent they are, on killing me
-
- Now
only yards away to cross the fence
- Desert sand is blowing, visibility is dense
- Finally I crossed the border
- But not before a bullet tore my shoulder
-
- Helped
by others, whose country is a democratic ground
- Time has passed, I’m healed, safe and sound!
