Today\u2019s Post<\/strong>: \u2013 Warsan Shire, \u201cHome\u201d<\/p>\n no one leaves home unless<\/p>\n home is the mouth of a shark.<\/p>\n you only run for the border<\/p>\n when you see the whole city running as well.<\/p>\n your neighbours running faster<\/p>\n than you, the boy you went to school with who kissed you dizzy behind<\/p>\n the old tin factory is<\/p>\n holding a gun bigger than his body,<\/p>\n you only leave home<\/p>\n when home won\u2019t let you stay.<\/p>\n no one would leave home unless home chased you, fire under feet,<\/p>\n hot blood in your belly.<\/p>\n it\u2019s not something you ever thought about doing, and so when you did \u2013<\/p>\n you carried the anthem under your breath, waiting until the airport toilet<\/p>\n to tear up the passport and swallow,<\/p>\n each mouthful of paper making it clear that you would not be going back.<\/p>\n you have to understand,<\/p>\n no one puts their children in a boat unless the water is safer than the land.<\/p>\n who would choose to spend days<\/p>\n and nights in the stomach of a truck<\/p>\n unless the miles traveled<\/p>\n meant something more than journey.<\/p>\n no one would choose to crawl under fences,<\/p>\n be beaten until your shadow leaves you,<\/p>\n raped, then drowned, forced to the bottom of<\/p>\n the boat because you are darker, be sold,<\/p>\n starved, shot at the border like a sick animal,<\/p>\n be pitied, lose your name, lose your family,<\/p>\n make a refugee camp a home for a year or two or ten,<\/p>\n stripped and searched, find prison everywhere<\/p>\n and if you survive and you are greeted on the other side<\/p>\n with go home blacks, refugees<\/p>\n dirty immigrants, asylum seekers<\/p>\n sucking our country dry of milk,<\/p>\n dark, with their hands out<\/p>\n smell strange, savage \u2013<\/p>\n look what they\u2019ve done to their own countries,<\/p>\n what will they do to ours?<\/p>\n the dirty looks in the street<\/p>\n softer than a limb torn off,<\/p>\n the indignity of everyday life<\/p>\n more tender than fourteen men who<\/p>\n look like your father, between<\/p>\n your legs, easier to swallow<\/p>\n than rubble, than your child\u2019s body<\/p>\n in pieces \u2013 for now, forget about pride<\/p>\n your survival is more important.<\/p>\n i want to go home, but home is the mouth of a shark<\/p>\n home is the barrel of the gun<\/p>\n and no one would leave home<\/p>\n unless home chased you to the shore<\/p>\n unless home tells you to<\/p>\n leave what you could not behind, even if it was human.<\/p>\n no one leaves home until home<\/p>\n is a damp voice in your ear saying<\/p>\n leave, run now, i don\u2019t know what<\/p>\n i\u2019ve become.<\/p>\n Warsan Shire b. 1 August 1988 Tuesday, \u00a0May 28 \u00a0JRS \u00a0\u2014 \u201cHome\u201d \u00a0Warsan Shire Thinking, on Memorial Day, about tomorrow\u2019s post on May 28; \u00a0my remembering killed and maimed soldiers and honoring their sufferings intersected with reading a world wide letter from the Superior General of … Continue reading ![\"\"](\"https:\/\/sites.udmercy.edu\/poetry\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/170\/2017\/04\/Warsan-Shire.jpg\")
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\nhttps:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Warsan_Shire<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"