Waṭan

Waṭan (home country)

I never saw my home land,
When I see it on TV,
A strange ache is inside me,
I do not understand.

I was born in (censored),
A country far away,
From where I currently stay.
That's where my parents fled.

How can I long for Egypt,
A country in turmoil,
With only foreign soil,
While my heart was ripped

By that very man from there,
Who stole me and abused,
And tortured, sold and used;
Who made me say 'grand-père'.

I never saw my home land.
I need to know my roots.
One day I will set foot,
And I will hold the hand

Of my family who missed me,
So many years, and yearned,
Until they finally learned
I was still alive, and free.

Until that day it's exile.
Trying hard to survive,
Write, heal, study, thrive,
Wanting to see the Nile.

I am hiding where I'm staying,
Sometimes it drives me mad.
My past makes me sad,
Almost giving up, aching.

My waṭan, you won't save me,
I just want to understand
Why this foreign land
Sounds like healing, being free.

- Darren White, 2016