My New Poem: The Refugees

All these died in faith, without receiving the promises, but having seen them and having welcomed them from a distance, and having confessed that they were strangers and exiles on the earth. (Hebrews 11:13, NASB)
 
Below this world's sweet cream
Are wretched ones rare seen,
Regarded as unclean:
The Refugees.

Will ever they fit in,
Accept a hint of sin,
Since lures around them spin?
Strange Refugees.

They have no sense of style
Except for that brave smile.
'Been out of touch a while'
-- Shunned Refugees.

Rejected by their kin,
God knows where they have been:
E'en to the lion's den,
These Refugees!

Nor is the church house safe
From those who love to strafe
The odd religious waif
-- Quaint Refugees!

They're tired, wounded, sore;
In beauty, skill, quite poor.
Who has an open door
For Refugees?

They wait a 'promised land',
Not grasping what's at hand.
What has this folly fanned
In Refugees?

From what have these folk fled?
Scarce are they clothed and fed!
Are they not better dead
Than Refugees?

They ran from wrath of God;
Their sin had earned death's rod.
By ark of Christ they're awed,
Spared Refugees!

Though honored once they die
How few now hear their cry!
But there is One on high
For Refugees.

He's willed that this meek band
Inherit all earth's land,
His glory ever stand
Midst Refugees!

Till great white throne I see
With these O may I be:
The few, the faint, the free,
The Refugees!

But as it is, they desire a better country, that is, a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God; for He has prepared a city for them. Hebrews 11:16 NASB