I lived in Pyongyang,
Breathing to be wired to follow my father’s footsteps.
Taught all day the greatness of our homeland.
As a kid, I sunk into their teaching,
But now seen as propaganda through my grown eyes.
I dreamed of leading my own troupe
Into battle, for my great country, to stand with pride
As I was destined to protect it.


Out of grief and sadness
A cry stretched its ways to my ears.
The great leader fell
From swell to nothing well.
I was told we were to go on holiday
In Gyeong-Seong forced to stay.
Moving in and out of it to see the light of day.
No longer blinded from my homeland’s falsehood
Tricks and tactics meant for military
Used against it for my own tranquility.
Oh! The irony.


Now grown up, with a new dream.
I no longer see Joseon the way it used to seem,
I say my story as a North Korean defector in hope,
hope to see better lives for those who reside there.
In my oh so forsaken great homeland Joseon.