I stand on the brink of language,
words drift away like smoke,
each syllable a hidden stone each accent a chain—
my tongue, a foreign river unable to merge into the sea of your understanding.
In the mirror, I see fragments,
a mosaic of who I was—
the child’s laughter echoes down my forgotten street,
the warmth of my mother’s embrace
now fades like pages torn from someone else’s book.
When I walk these streets; pavement cracks like the dreams I once held,
each step asks the same question:
Do I fit within this skin, this borrowed identity?
Am I a fading silhouette, lost beneath the hard glare of your unforgiving eyes?
The job postings loom like a cold gate,
demanding what I lack; experience, fluency, citizenship.
My résumé, a fragile kite caught in the wind,
dragged beneath the waves of rejection.
At night, I cradle my memories,
bracing them against the cold grip of isolation,
woven from threads of a past that cling like persistent shadows.
Hold my hands; I am a refugee boy adrift in a land where I feel like a ghost.
I am both the wanderer and the home, yet neither feels whole;
each day I build my walls, only for them to crumble with every new dawn.
—
Akuei Maliet Adol is a South Sudanese poet who has been living in Kenya as a refugee for over two decades. Beyond his inspiring pursuits, Adol is a talented writer and mentor, using his wisdom to empower others. He often writes about health, peace, love, and the plight of refugees. His literary works are featured at PanLuel Wel Media Limited and Writers Space Africa (WSA) Magazine. Akuei is also the Reviewer of Reviews at WSA Magazine Review and serves as the moderator for WSA—South Sudan. He is an editor and co-founder of Ink of Hope Publishers in Nairobi.
—