Syria, Iraq, My home

I left my country to travel
to the end of the world.
Surely, it was the end of the world
for me, because
my world no longer existed.
I was leaving a world that
was no longer,
to seek a world that is.
My world now lays in crumbles.
and is no longer waiting.
I am asked why I came here?
Where do you suggest?
Why don’t you go back?
And I ask, “Why don’t you go
to the place where I left,
and see if you can survive?”
See if you would not sorrow
for what my world has become.
I lost my world,
and there is not enough left
to find.
How do you return to what
isn’t?

John Collins, a retired pharmacist and teacher, has been a long time writer and after 40 years is attempting to compile his writings into a volume for print. He has appeared in Dissident Voice and the Pagolin Review. His topics are frequently about the horrors of conflict, but also about the duality of the encounters in life. Read other articles by John.