Poem

On the water the bugs float, lazily, legs stretched out, looking to grip a stick or stone, camouflaged in serenity, as if, do I have to hide from frogs today?

Has anyone ever wondered why trees reach out? Oh, the branches So lonely that tree must be, alone in the middle of a honeysuckle field dappled with nothing but its own leaves Leaves, oh tree’s loves, they leave as happened to me, as happened to him, reaching out to pull her back, alone.

the rivers flow gently with leaves floating by in the crystal clear sky clouds circle by as a bird tweets in a tree. I watch how nature is beautiful as can be as wind sways the trees. And I think I love nature and I hope it loves me.

Oh banter and Talk Canned Laugher and Fun in movies but Let’s keep BANTER and BANTER until your Eyes get heavy and heads CLASH down. Powering seconds of bams + HAHA’s Over HILLS of LAUGHTER And CHATS-BAMS with joy until I Say: Quiet yo, Time To Banter

Sometimes, courage can be broken. Stories I’ve read felt like it happened. Words could not be spoken at that time. Where would this life lead me? Is it to the sea of worries or a world of spells? I shouldn’t doubt myself. Anger erupts in my mind, but what I let out is the great lion’s roar. But somehow, it was never heard. Even a pin drop sends ripples into my mind, A collection of questions, some not always answered. The magic of a child and a pet is so deep that it could never be lost in life. There is hope! People don’t share their secrets because they’re the greatest luxuries one can keep. It’s not like we have nine lives like a cat. It’s unbelievable how, in one lifetime, you can feel it all. Fates are created in the galaxy. Clouds of thoughts start to rain. A giggle machine paints smiles on faces. What’s it like to be called a smiley face? What is it like to feel a feeling with no name? Thoughts, feelings, and experiences can never be taken away because they are yours once you feel them. You own it!

The brain is an organism that lives. We are creatures; we deepen our arc of knowledge. We can tumble into an image of fantasy, best yet, commotions, emotions, I communicate verbally. Welcome to reality. It’s a place where dreams stop or continue, It’s a blank page of a story with no proper ending. This feeling of tension burns up into my body. It’s something I cannot quite name. Could it be an emotion’s name? Nope, it’s untitled, unleashed, a vulture flying through the winds of our hidden passion. We are just souls scattered throughout the universe, As compared to Mother Earth. We are less than a dot, We are smart, We evolve, There are too many things to keep count on. It’s a beautiful world. With a wish I carry my cats. I carry a backpack full of my sparkling joy, My wings enable me to fly and shine throughout my time. I am satisfied with how I control my feelings and thoughts, my actions, my communications, A brain gives us the freedom of speech; it gives us liberty.

The whispering light hangs in the shadowy trees As I fly down a golden path of fireflies Toward a pirate ship door handle that Slithers like an octopus tentacle in my palm, And I am filled with blue fear

When Mom gets mad she explodes like Sprite When we get into a fight Still, her heart’s a shimmering waterfall of light

A window of light flows through the shadowy trees I dive into a bathtub of emerald green water Hidden in a canyon carpeted with soft moss Through a giant keyhole in the rock, the light dances A creamy waterfall spilled from the giant pitcher of rock

  I am from “the Red Planet,” Mars, millions of miles from a place called Earth, which, at night, became a bright, shining star, holding hands with the two enormous moons. I am from the capital, Crater Thunder, where we played tennis on the red, red dirt, except the game didn’t go past the five-minute warmup, as wasting oxygen tanks was a crime. I am from the neighborhood right next to the launch site— we wore enhanced earplugs every night to sleep, and woke up to the rumbling of engine fire, signaling the end of a journey for tourists. But I liked Mars, my true home. Earth is too green, too blue, too brown; too overpopulated, too loud, too free; too clean, too oxygenated, too peaceful . . . . . . and too beautiful.

What does this really mean? Guys why life is like this? I love my friends Those who accepted me the way I am and couldn’t judge   This poem was created with the support of the Humanitarian Service Team. The Humanitarian Service Team is a refugee founded and led nonprofit, community-based organization located in Nakivale Refugee Settlement, Uganda. Nakivale Refugee Settlement is the eighth largest refugee settlement in the world. The program aims to empower refugees and host communities through charity, awareness, and entrepreneurship courses through a number of educational and skill-building initiatives. About the Project There are millions of children affected by war, social collapse, and climate change now living in refugee camps or dispersed in host countries far from their original homes. The work that appears here is a part of Stone Soup’s growing collection of creative expression by young people whose lives have been upended by such conflict throughout the world. To explore the entire collection, please visit the Stone Soup Refugee Project online: https://stonesoup.com/refugee-project/.

Right in your hands That very hard night Because I am your child That time we had a chance to turn a page and the only way to get out of the stupid town. Bang bang bang Trrrack trrrack Krack krack krack Those are the sounds we heard behind us as we were running away Oh my goodness Now I understand the meaning of refugee in Kiswahili. Mkimbizi Meaning a runner We need peace   This poem was created with the support of the Humanitarian Service Team. The Humanitarian Service Team is a refugee founded and led nonprofit, community-based organization located in Nakivale Refugee Settlement, Uganda. Nakivale Refugee Settlement is the eighth largest refugee settlement in the world. The program aims to empower refugees and host communities through charity, awareness, and entrepreneurship courses through a number of educational and skill-building initiatives. About the Project There are millions of children affected by war, social collapse, and climate change now living in refugee camps or dispersed in host countries far from their original homes. The work that appears here is a part of Stone Soup’s growing collection of creative expression by young people whose lives have been upended by such conflict throughout the world. To explore the entire collection, please visit the Stone Soup Refugee Project online: https://stonesoup.com/refugee-project/.