Refugee Trapped in the Now
Every time I look around,
I wonder how I’m still here,
wandering the face of this earth,
always going nowhere.
Years have passed,
and I still don’t know
why I’m still alive
and where I’m meant to go.
I think back to early childhood.
Sticking a fork in an electric socket,
scolded by my mother.
Growing older, struck by a careless driver.
Cleaning blood,
my grandfather said I was a survivor.
I recall falling from the roof of our old house,
hitting the ground so hard
they thought I broke my ribs.
Yet I got up and ran down the street to play.
I should have been dead in countless ways.
I remember penicillin
swelling my face like a balloon.
My throat closing,
darkness filling the room.
The pain and burning
as they brought me back again.
The light so blinding
that all else was consumed.
A simple headache once erupted,
my head spinning,
collapsing on the floor,
trying to yell to no one.
Waking with a burning sensation
through every muscle.
My leg was clawed,
my left side weakened, lethargic.
They told me I might never regain use of my hand.
Handed documents I could no longer read or understand.
Memories fragmented as the stroke lingered.
Years later, I use that hand just fine.
How many times have I battled dark specters,
almost lost my dreams, my visions of forever?
How often does death glance our way and decide to wait?
How many times do we defy the whims of fate?
I’ve seen a light I wish I’d never seen.
Shadows I wish weren’t etched in my memory.
My mind seared with things I never wanted to know.
My body scarred from near-death’s blow.
And I sit, and I ponder, digesting these memories,
waiting every day for an epiphany.
Where’s the burst of wisdom, the knowledge from the unseen?
Why can’t I grasp what this life means?
I keep coming back from every close call,
hoping there’s a reason for it all,
some design in this strange destiny,
a clue to this life’s mystery.
If you can hear me, tell me please —
what are your plans for me?
After all that’s passed before,
I don’t know anymore.
Is there something I’m meant to do,
something forgotten that I once knew?
Why am I here somehow,
a refugee trapped in the now?
Every time I look around,
I wonder why I’m still here,
wandering my mind for clues,
finding nothing clear.
Years stretch ahead,
and I still don’t know
why I’m still alive
and where I’m meant to go.