But Sweden’s home, his future’s land.

Here’s a short poem:
Across the Nile’s warm, golden light,
He sailed to Sweden’s icy night.
Amr left Egypt’s ancient shore,
Seeking dreams, and more.
But Stockholm’s streets, so clean and gray,
Held struggles he never knew by day.
Resumes submitted, hopes astray,
No calls came, come what may.
His skills, honed in Cairo’s heat,
Were lost in translation’s defeat.
Language barriers, cultural walls,
Made job searches endless falls.
Yet still he stands, through winter’s snow,
And vows to make his spirit glow.
Amr holds on to hope’s bright spark,
And works to find his Nordic mark.
His heart remains, where pyramids stand,
But Sweden’s home, his future’s land.