August 2022

Partitioned,
my home for generations.

Separated,
families that lived together for lifetimes.

Depleted,
number of neighbors I thought were friends.

Bloodied,
the rivers and streams across town.

Horrid,
the screams and cries echoing the sky.

Looted,
people who didn’t have much to begin with.

Killed,
children who knew no religion.

Raped,
girls who had never heard the word or its meaning.

Abducted,
women because men could get away with it.

Asundered,
hills that were born since time began.

Broken,
not just a country but its spirit and soul.

Torn,
my Punjab like a piece of rag.

Refugee,
my new alias.