Drift Away

I worry for tomorrow, will there be another day?

I try to stay strong, but the pain won't go away.

We're consumed by this anguish, trapped in solitude.

There's just no where to escape, no one to go to.


My land is gone,

My acres of dedication withdrawn.

I've nothing to gain, nothing to lose

Just the hope that I once possessed.

Everything is gone, turned to debris.

I'm left only with my distress.


Like a heron, I migrate, to what is not destroyed.

Unemployed and displaced, my life has been alloyed.

Recumbent in the shadows, with a bindle by my side.

Reluctant I am to doze, but here I must reside.


Wandering up the bank, contemplating what to do.

I hear the sound of the river, mimicking a berceuse.

The current of my thoughts begin to drift away,

As I try to decipher the rhythm it conveys.


This poem is about: 
My country
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


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