©Lozan Yamolky
From Book: I’m No Hero
Published in 2016 through Silver Bow Publishing
He shouted,
“Go back to where you came from.
Get back on the boat!”
“I cannot,” I said.
Where I come from
they would marry me to a man
as old as my grandfather.
They would stone me to death
for being in love.
They would drag me
through streets till I die,
because I am not heterosexual.
They would ostracize me
for being of a different faith.
They would hack me with machetes
in the streets,
for not believing in their God.
I cannot go back to where I came from,
because they would behead me for refusing
to join their religion.
They would gang rape me
for debts my family cannot pay.
They would shoot me
while I am on the bus,
because they do not want girls
to go to school.
They would make me work at age five.
They would humiliate me
and publicly torture me
for being born third gender.
Where I come from,
they would assassinate me
for standing up for women’s rights.
They would publically flog me,
hundreds of times,
for blogging online
about freedom of religion.
They would dismember my body
for not wearing religious garments.
They would cut off my hand
for stealing food to feed my hungry family.
Where I come from,
they charge me with apostasy
and sentence me to death
for writing poetry.
They would force me
to join their army
or be killed.
Where I come from,
they would buy and sell me
just like property;
I am their sex slave.
They would chain and imprison me
just because I am a girl.
They do not let me speak my mind,
they do not let me be free;
I can no longer be a child.
Where I come from,
they took my ancestors’ lands,
my family’s homes
and threw us to the streets.
Where I come from,
I am no longer allowed
to live in my land
because they gave my land away
and even gave it a new name.
I cannot go back to where I came from
because I am deformed since birth;
I just sit on sidewalks
begging for my daily bread.
The bombs disabled me.
Fear paralyzed me.
Chemical weapons blinded my sight.
Shouting and screaming
at the loss of my people muted me.
The fires burned my flesh alive.
I am deaf from the sounds of
bombs:
bullets,
explosions,
guns,
mortar shells,
air strikes,
and… and… and…
I cannot go back to where I came from.
Where I came from,
the war is not going to stop,
because weapon makers
are profiting.
I cannot get back on the boat
because it sank.
With it,
sank my hopes and my dreams,
my aspirations and my future;
my illusion of peace.
I can’t go back to where I came from you see
– but you can!
You can go back
to being tolerant of others;
back to having empathy and
compassion for those around you.
You can go back
to the time before you were taught
– to hate.
©Lozan Yamolky
From Book: I’m No Hero
Published in 2016 through Silver Bow Publishing
To purchase your copy of my book, contact the publisher http://www.silverbowpublishing.com/i-m-no-hero-.html
Or you may contact me directly so I can ship you a copy or more.
Lozan Yamolky 