Friday, November 2, 2018

The Migrants

With absence nostalgia may weaken but does not die away
The migrants think of their homeland every day
Of their first family and old friends memories with them remain
And in their visualizations they go home again
The love of the homeland it never does die
And those who tell you different believe their own lie
Migrants in their new country may feel content and in life settled down
Yet they often does think of their far off hometown
And the people they knew there many years ago
Long before time that rusts iron did become their foe
They may be naturalized citizens of their new country and from their first hometown long gone
But the weakening flame of nostalgia in them flickers on
Memories of what was until death in them will remain
And on their flights of fancy they go home again.

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