Thoughts of rebellion plagued me
An inherent desire to bring honour to my people
What would become of me
If I do not set my people free?
Greed had brought destruction to my home
Dispersed my people across the globe
Leaving home with nothing but my name
I hoped that one day it would be known.
I sailed to the Promised Land
On a damaged boat,
Where a man made a promise
That he would grant me safe passage
To a foreign land.
I left my home
With a broken heart and a piece of paper dictating my name
Hoping that one day it’ll be known.
The sea can be so kind to some
And so cruel to others.
Desperately holding on to my name
I cling on to my last mark of identity
Before my time was up
My name was lost
In the Mediterranean my soul left scattered
On the hands of the greedy my blood was splattered
I prayed to not end up just another victim of corruption
I prayed to find safety in the promised land
I prayed that one day I will know peace
Yet when peace did indeed come
It was a violent peace
Which not only took my name, but my life.
Written by: Juanita Galea