THE DREAM OF A ROHINGYA YOUTH

A Silly Bird!

They call me a silly bird,
because I dream beyond the bars,
because I still believe the wind will someday carry my scars.

I live inside a cage of fear,
where sunlight feels too far,
yet my heart keeps drawing skies around each broken scar.

They say my hopes are foolish wings,
that dreams can’t free the chained,
but I was born to chase the dawn
no matter what remained.

I watch the world stay silent still,
while truth is sold for gold,
and the pain of those like me is traded, bought, and told.

Oh, if only hearts could see
that cages aren’t made of steel alone,
they are built from minds that choose not to care,
from justice left unknown.

So call me silly, I don’t mind for hope still lives in me.
One day this bird will break the cage,
and set his spirit free.

Note: This poem is consecrated to the racist Myanmar Buddhists who denied my right to belong, to the world leaders who speak of justice but never act to hold the perpetrators of our genocide accountable, and to those who turn our pain into profit while pretending to help.
It is for every silenced soul behind the fences, for every dream that dares to rise above fear, for we the caged, still dream of the sky.

Ro Niyamot Ullah