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The Empathy Poems project is designed to raise awareness about the plight of asylum seekers and refugees.

I see his blood

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I see his blood, my father’s blood
      on the stones, on my clothes.
My mother’s tears fall endlessly
      not enough
      to wash away his blood.

We leave his blood, my father’s blood
      shadows, darkness hand in hand.
My mother’s eyes look endlessly,
      search a place
      to wash away his blood.

No word to speak my father’s blood
      in this place, this new home.
My mother’s tears fall inwardly
      enough, enough
      to water every bloodied rose.

I feel my blood, my father’s blood,
      in my pulse, remembered.
My childhood tears fall secretly
      enough, enough
      never
     to wash away his blood.

 

For those who come across the sea

What a piece of work