by MELISSA KONG
My passport is a lady dressed
in rich red
Shamelessly inked by men and
women all the world over
Yet I’ve never seen home and
all he has to offer
Hands etched with varicose
veins
Gravelly roads running into rivers
still pulsating with life
If I followed them with my
fingers and feet I’ve been told I’ll find
Pockets of people who’ve been
there all along
Who are foreign and family at
the same time
Great caverns carved into his
ears
That has been home to history
and creatures of the night
Hiding delicate beauties in
the dark
So sunlight can’t steal them
away
His hair was once thick and
lush
Jungles composed of
Towering trees shading
wildlife and wild people
Alive with birdsong and
beasts
But
Now decaying in greed’s tight
fist
Home has never been the same
ever since.
___________________________________________________________NOTE: I wrote this for The Dirty Thirty, where you write a poem a day throughout the month of April based on the given prompt. The prompt for this was to write about a place you'd never been to, so I wrote about the rest of Sarawak that I've not explored.