What happens to identity
When surrender is called?
The wrong side of history
The tiger that’s been mauled.
How do you bear the moniker
Defeated? Enemy?
Now living under their regime
Your choice is? “Happily”.
Wary of the kindnesses
That you rarely receive.
Your hand extends in friendship
but your heart says, “disbelieve”.
Someone else decided for you,
who your foes should be.
The axis tilted in the night
now you’re the “enemy”.
You gaze at your hated visage
and you scowl at the brazen one
who was simply caught living life,
you were no smoking gun!
You wish that you may find some hope
To tether you to life
To bring you back from bigotry, suffering and strife.
Your muted voice is quiet now
But one day you may try
To make sense of the whole **** mess
Or always wonder why.
This poem is about those who live in post war occupied countries. My particular focus was Allied occupation of Germany but it could relate to anywhere really....
