I was in a geography class,
in a country, my parents immigrated to years ago,
after a war waged,
in my city I never knew about.
My classmates came from the Far East,
Some came from Europe and America.
They were brown, black and white.
They were Muslims, Christians and Jews.
A few were documented,
while the rest weren’t.
My bald teacher was so good.
He was asked to leave his homeland,
after he opposed the government with his writings.
I thought he was so happy after coming here safely by boat,
but I later assumed he was so sad.
He got everything but not a life in his homeland.
We opened the book on a lesson,
called ‘the crises of the world’.
The teacher asked,
where are the crises?
I raised my hands and pointed at the map on the wall,
they are in the East and the West,
in the North and the South.
The crises are everywhere…
When migrants are forced to leave their homelands, art becomes the best way to tell their untold stories.