long road to anywhere
their land they own no more
their homes ransacked and sold
to men with prisoners as wives
nearby fields of wildflowers
once stretching to meet the sun halfway
but now scorched and smoldering
harbor pieces of unspeakable crimes
the instinct of flight is all that
remains inside human spirits
no longer questioning nor conjecturing
and certainly no longer imagining
they put up unfathomable fronts
instinctively embarking on a
journey to anywhere
fueled by fumes of the innocent
september two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
jdubqca 
Truly lovely and powerfully sad. I can feel a refugees pain and relate to it as someone who feels as if she has no true home.
Thank you so much for sharing your thoughts on this piece.
Humans seem to be on the move again… and where to go?
I don’t know but wouldn’t it be perfect if they could just stay home and only be able to leave on their own terms?
I see that you tagged this “Syria” which makes perfect sense…yet as I read it, before seeing the tags I was picturing Native Americans.
This is true. Wow. I often wonder why I try tagging poems; they are here to be interpreted by the reader. Thank you so much for you comments, Melanie.
And the reader will always bring their own “stuff” to it. Tagging is still important though.. if someone is looking for poems on a particular topic say Syria for instance, if you hadn’t tagged it that way they might never find it.