I walk with bombs and misery
Covered with dust and into an uncertain history
My father taken, for how long I cannot say
My mother broken but willing us to live for another day.

My days and nights pass away
Looking for a safe place to stay
but the signs say "Refugees do not pass this way"
I have nothing left, but to pray.

My dreams are of bread and rice
Oh, that would be so very nice
But instead, our camps are full of lice and vice
And many other things for which we pay a price

I look up and smile to strangers passing by
They look away as if I am a lie
And do not see me cry
If only, they would at least open an eye.

My brother lets out a cry
Hunger is the reason why
I will give him my meal, so he does not die
But soon, that will no longer apply.

It may well be, that I will find another land
But does that matter, if I cannot hold my brother's hand
Or follow my mother's footsteps in the sand
To the far away promised land.