Another Land

I’m Not from Here

Yo soy de otra tierra

I’ve had Nothing to eat

Nothing for Days

Days of walking,
hunkering in backs of trucks,
hiding,
silently,
walking again,

Walking.

And now I’m Here.

The Place of Promise
The Place of the Tales
The Place of our Dreams

You know the one.

The Place with the Statue.

But I’m still hungry.

I guess I could eat my papers

~ My Documents ~

But I don’t have any.

Yo soy de otra tierra

I’m not from Here.

9 Comments

  1. This, to me, is the essence of Christianity. If we can find technicalities that excuse us from needing to care for “the least of these” we have become Pharisees. “Who is my neighbor?” Indeed.

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      1. Refugees are people fleeing wars or in risk of persecution for their beliefs. If they just want American dollars and “a better life” as seen on TV, they are not legitimate refugees.
        ( I still like your poem and it made me think.)

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      2. We’ve turned away many legitimate refugees. Some of them have gotten in anyway. Regardless, does their “legality” make them ineligible for human services?

        Like

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