A born refugee, I am told-
I crossed barbed wires to a new land;
It was a divided nation an unstable station
for some time there was, celebration;
but soon there was all, devastation
loneliness parting degradation.
I crossed other barriers,
I tried to make another home
I thought I was free-
I struggled through invisible fires,
I slipped on mud and mires
My faith only, kept me strong
Oh where do I belong?
My body will be dust my soul will fly
Will my Story find , a respectable publication?
'Oh Elementary My Dear Watson'
You should know the clue to the destination'
'It is all so simple-there is the solution
Lets leave the rest to someone else,
'Tis fate n' Joy, let there be Jingle' 'n jubilation'
To The Lovely Gooseberry Garden, is my dedication'