THE WEARY
SOULS
By John Jonaid
The intolerable waiting game and unending uncertainty of any future that all refugees in Indonesia must endure.
The weary souls, adrift in time,
Trapped in a fate so vile and grim,
The waiting game, an endless plight,
An uncertain future, a constant fight.
Like stars in the night sky, so far and bright,
Freedom glimmers, a distant light,
Our hearts desire to touch and feel,
But reach them we cannot, our fate too real.
"Without the right to work, study, and move around, our days and nights are becoming more unbearable by the moment. We can no longer wait for an opportunity to live as human beings."
Like a fish in a glass of water, we survive,
Barely breathing, as we strive,
Hope for change, a fleeting thought,
Dreams for a better future, all for naught.
We water our patience with tears each day,
But it dries up, hope slips away,
Trapped in this hellish limbo of fate,
Living as human beings, our right to claim awaits.