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.
defying atrophy 
Lástima para ti si tienes hambre.
No es mi problema proveerte comida si entraste a mi país ilegalmente. Vete al carajo.
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En esto diferimos demasiado. Se pierde el mensaje del evangelio. adios, amigo.
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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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Your first step ought to be to enter LEGALLY or else stay away.
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Then our system and definition of “legal” needs to change so we aren’t denying entry to legitimate refugees.
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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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We’ve turned away many legitimate refugees. Some of them have gotten in anyway. Regardless, does their “legality” make them ineligible for human services?
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This highlights the plight of the voiceless. Thank you, Ben.
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We have too many who are voiceless. Some of them ARE from here…
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