My country was in flames and then
I saw it there: the British flag,
a friendly face.
It was the worst day of my life.
Huddled and cold we were.
The trip was long, the night was dark,
but a warm soup lit our hearts.
It was the worst week of my life.
Daily shopping, the school run,
read the papers, bask
in the warmest winter sun.
It was the worst month of my life.
Walking through the masses
my eye catches your eye.
A spark, an understanding,
a shared life – so many plans.
It was the worst year of my life.
Because it gave me hope it was the worst day of my life,
because I felt that warmth it was the worst week of my life,
because I was at home it was the worst month of my life,
because I became yours it was the worst year of my life.
Because I’m in despair, so cold,
unrooted and adrift in this barren land
in flames no more – just smouldering –
this land that they call mine.
“THE HOME SECRETARY, THERESA MAY, HAS ANNOUNCED AN OVERHAUL OF THE ASYLUM SYSTEM DURING A HARDLINE SPEECH ON IMMIGRATION. MRS MAY SAID THAT, WHEREVER POSSIBLE, ASYLUM SEEKERS WOULD BE ACCEPTED FROM TROUBLED REGIONS, RATHER THAN AT BRITISH BORDERS. SHE ALSO SAID REFUGEES COULD BE SENT HOME, ONCE THEIR COUNTRIES BECAME SAFER.”
Six O’Clock News, BBC Radio 4
Tuesday 6 October 2015