Last Flight


An immigrant’s nightmare,
That phone call we dread,
Whether out at a movie,
Or wrapped up in bed.

A quest to go home,
To go book that next flight
No time for advice,
To help through our plight.

Things will be abandoned,
Planning futures so strange,
A last minute trip scheduled,
To a lifetime now changed.

Drop what you’re doing,
Pack up turn the locks,
For the one whom we fly for,
We can’t turn back clocks.

There’s what-ifs and how-comes,
If only You’d stayed,
But know they were proud,
Of the life that you made.

Things never said to them,
But thought every day,
It’s easy to love one,
Though harder to say.

So much was missed,
During times spent away
But remember those feelings,
That don’t go astray.

The feeling of emptiness,
May one day be filled,
Until then just memories,
And tears that are spilled.

A glass will be raised,
A memory shared,
Despite the bravado,
We’re immigrants scared.

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