[48thTree99]

A random poem I just wrote right then... (It may not be very good...)

When others smile, in pain I cry out.
When they may drink, I witness drought.
While others have beds, I sleep on dirt.
And when they heal, I still hurt.

This life is so cruel - why does it have to be me?
I finally find a decent home and then I have to flee.
Of the frequent sound of gunfire, I live in fear.
And it is very rare when, of bullets, the sky is clear.

Diseases here are inevitable - that, I know,
And it’s really hard to travel quickly when we really have to go.
Death will come very soon, I’m sure,
I knew that long before, from a bullet, my flesh tore.

Maybe that is better for me, an end to my life,
I’d much rather that than be sold off as a wife.
Nobody will care about me in ten years - I’m just a little refugee girl,
Wealthy people will keep living, oblivious to the rest of the world.

Feedback please?