The Refugee Poem by Bijay Kant Dubey
The Refugee
The refugee,
The word strikes as a bell
Tolled,
The word
The refugee,
The refugee,
Say you, who is this refugee,
Who has made him a refugee,
Say you?
Shelterless,
Without any refuge,
Lie they
Passing the nights
Under the canopy of the skies,
The refugee,
The refugee,
But who is responsible for
Their deplorable condition,
Who,
Who is it?
Driven from their own lands,
Native homes and places,
They are outsiders
In others'places,
Other than their surrounds,
In the new land found
And adopted homes,
But the memories still keep weakening
The refugee,
The refugee.
It is none but us who have turned them into refugees, who have driven them out of homes
The refugee crisis is one of the major crises the world is confronted with. Now how to tackle them is a great problem before us. There is nobody to think. Montrous wars, unnecessary politics, pontifical regiosity and greed for power force the people to be driven away from their lands and homes.
In writing the pom, how has the mind got lifted to World Refugee Commission, World Refugee Day and grappling to clinch with some idea and thought to reflect upon the impending crisis! It is but a human crisis. But can a man do it, can a human being at least in such a way?
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7/23/2025 4:04:16 AM # 1.0.0
It is none but us who have turned them into refugees, who have driven them out of their homes which but not good, so cruel and piteous the moment we come to know it. The blunders of history what to say it about, the blunders man does it without thinking about?