Decade of the Refugee

It's the decade of the refugee
a third-world rising in America
Downsized and confused, casualties
out on the street, wondering
where they went wrong
Blown from the moorings
of traditional jobs
without even a forecast
of bad weather

A job is a job is a job, too often
a struggle without meaning
bound in chains of command
Displaced replaced persons
looking over shoulders
Coming home to the question
how was your day
without the foggiest
and reaching for a drink

Bombed out without a war
yet no one's serving doughnuts
Like all refugees across the world
these too are powerless
picking among the ruins
for what still has use
Balanced only for the moment, silent
as victims are always silent
hollow-eyed with fear

Holding on and holding back
in times that make a joke
of the way things were
A house, a car, dinner at six
and college for the kids
not a guarantee these days
For-sale signs pop up here and there
on a way of life
and someone has to hit the road

Lost in a country full of maps
impossible to find their way
flying blind
Metaphorically burning the furniture
to keep warm
Their fathers built an open country
and now it's closing down
Leaving a legacy of confusion
as the borders all are closing

And yet we've come this way before
survived the dust-bowl days
of a great depression
to climb back again and thrive
The nation nearly sank back then
but these are different times
jobless in a soaring market
Maybe it's time to look back again
to try and find a road ahead