I have been taken;
Barely surviving, to provide for another’s comfort;
Squeezed and packed as a parcel, unable to contort.
I live, caged in a house;
Missing my home, children and my spouse.
Back there, they are praying silently for hope;
And it is because of them that I am able to cope.
I work in this region that is foreign;
Land when compared to mine, is too barren.
All these plants are fake;
Even the water feels like a mistake.
The worst part is that my tears cannot be seen;
They melt silently into the blue and green.
Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers Week (June 9 – June 16) – 101 words.
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A small dedication to all those forcibly taken from their homes to serve others households.