Poem: Exile


Exile is the loneliest word

Outcast, foreigner

Exile is an unwanted orphan

Stranger in stranger’s hands

Exile is a living death

Alive but Dead to me

Exile is permanent goodbye

With no second chances

Exile is a slow death sentence

Makes time feel endless.


We need more than animalistic survival

Water food safety shelter

Will keep us propped up and functioning

So what?

In a zombie apocalypse I’d be dead on day one

I don’t want to be a sole survivor

What kind of existence is that?

Hoard guns, perishables and swimming pools in your luxury underground shelter?

We need each other to laugh and argue with

The chaos of this life gives us purpose

We need to speak share hope together

Or else why bother.