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Courtesy : The Stopover |
Under the clear blue sky I see
Soft white clouds,
Brown dusty mountains
Spreading their arms;
I wait,
I stand still,
Neither could I walk front
Nor I could turn back;
I am a Tibetan
But I am not fromTibet ,
I was born inIndia
Yet I am not an Indian;
A stamped refugee
From a lost country;
With my home just a yard away
And yet I feel it's far away;
I have got no choice,
But to stay back with despair;
I know for sure now,
This is beyond repair;
Every night I dream
My never seen home,
Lost in tears,
Engulfed with fear;
I survive, I wander
My heart grows tender
To get a sneak peek
Of my unseen land;
There is so much to see, to meet
And much more to feel;
I wish I could
Smell my earth
Till my field,
Rear my yaks,
Build my home,
As I try to fit in this foreign land;
I know I am not any nearer
In grabbing my nation back;
I have my courage,
I have my strength.
They say
My country,
Roof of the world -
Has now left us under no roof;
I wish I go home
To weave my dreams,
For it is my only realm;
While I still wait...
For the stopover -
To soothe my soul,
To mend my mind,
To see where I belong;
And to find who I am...
Soft white clouds,
Brown dusty mountains
Spreading their arms;
I wait,
I stand still,
Neither could I walk front
Nor I could turn back;
I am a Tibetan
But I am not from
I was born in
Yet I am not an Indian;
A stamped refugee
From a lost country;
With my home just a yard away
And yet I feel it's far away;
I have got no choice,
But to stay back with despair;
I know for sure now,
This is beyond repair;
Every night I dream
My never seen home,
Lost in tears,
Engulfed with fear;
I survive, I wander
My heart grows tender
To get a sneak peek
Of my unseen land;
There is so much to see, to meet
And much more to feel;
I wish I could
Smell my earth
Till my field,
Rear my yaks,
Build my home,
As I try to fit in this foreign land;
I know I am not any nearer
In grabbing my nation back;
I have my courage,
I have my strength.
They say
My country,
Roof of the world -
Has now left us under no roof;
I wish I go home
To weave my dreams,
For it is my only realm;
While I still wait...
For the stopover -
To soothe my soul,
To mend my mind,
To see where I belong;
And to find who I am...
This post is part of the contest Tibet: Roof of the world. Its people : Roofless.. on WriteUpCafe.com inspired by the Photo Fiction book The Stopover