Refugee

The camp son ,YES ,i’m refugee

My grandfather forced to be

They stole his land ,destroyed his village ,killed his family ,and shouted in his face , See see

It’s not his fault he didn’t choose or agree

The worrying about his kids made him leave, that what he said to me 

They gave him a tent , on the ground he slept , some lentils they offered but it was full of scree .

They gave him a card , by UNRWA it was signed, gave him new name called him a refugee

He did his best to take back what stolen from him and live again free

Here the farmer became a fighter exactly like a bee

Simple weapons ,strong insistence, to be or not to be

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My grandfather died ,he wanted to return and be buried, near his olive trees

My father after him ,died while he dream in same dreams

They left for us some important things ,the refugee card, insistence and his house keys

We begged the world , don’t leave us alone please

They changed our name and called us a terrorist refugees

Why? Because we refused their injustice or because we want to live in peace

Day after day, year after years ,and here we are, still refugees

The camp became our home ,our family our breaths

Sorry,  maybe we have different beliefs

But we are humans and looking for our release

The camp sons, YES, we are the refugees