~ The Immigrant Child – A Personification

by ladyliterati

My language not your own

My skin not of your colour

But all have eyes;

These shed rivers of tears

They’ve seen much –

What some call horror stories

Of blood, body parts, heads and hands
I fear closing my eyes

The images invade…as did the bombs

Exploding in my sleepless nights;

I am but a child

On the run, fearful every step

No time for toys, play

Surviving one day at a time

One breath at a time
My family torn apart

My sisters parts amongst the rubble –

We blessed, left her there and ran

We keep running

Crossing border after border

Fatigued, hungry, thirsty
Those with ice cold hearts

Halt our progress

Our Exodus,

We are corralled as cattle

Probed with black rods

Pushed in our place,

A smoke stings my eyes

Like a thousand needles

Chokes my throat

Like strong hands gripping

My brother never stops crying
My parents faces aged

Lined with fears, disbelief

All are judged by a religious preference

All are deemed bad!

Bad is not good!

They hurt you;

I hide within my Mothers skirt
Some here, in these “camps”

Scream for justice

To cross the border,

We here boats of people drowned

Cry for our families route

The child pushed ashore

Facedown, lifeless…
I am but a child

As many others here

Must this forced migration be so severe?

The winds now roll upon us

The rains soak our skin;

Step into mine

You’ll find where I leave off

You begin
Humanity in crisis

A cry in the wilderness

And no ones listening!

The burden blood stained

Tear stained –

My sister left beneath the rubble

Still clings to my clothes…
In the name of humanity

In the name of the countless children

The ones waiting in the womb

Let there be mercy, somewhere, somehow.
O’Prunty ©


2 Comments to “~ The Immigrant Child – A Personification”

  1. A haunting reflection of reality…

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