(Disclaimer: Not a physics related post.)
My childhood was wax crayons and mint chocolates
And cool summer evenings spiced with lemonade
Bedrooms littered with infinite toys
And a promise
Of endless tomorrows.
All because I happened to drop into a perfect family
in a sheltered town of a peaceful country.
I did not know not everyone is that lucky.
I did not know my parents could be ripped apart
From my life in a heartbeat.
I did not know I could return one day
To a house abandoned, its walls pockmarked
I did not know the torment of waiting for word
Telling me I could still curl up in my dad’s arms.
I did not know warm bodies turn cold
And the way to stop oozing blood is tying
I did not know brick walls could crumble
(I only ever saw dominos toppling)
I did not know the tenor of an adult’s cry
Or the sound a bomb makes as it
I did not know that oceans could be braved
On stormy nights in rubber boats that reek of woe
I did not know clear skies could be foreboding
Or that a thousand feet up, airplanes lug
I did not know fifty million children endure my nightmares.
One hundred million eyes subdued by shadows of a past that burns
and a future that suffocates.
One hundred million eyes, watching and waiting and wishing.
We’re in the middle of the largest refugee crisis since World War 2. According to The Guardian, at present, one in every 200 children is a refugee. A stroke of fate and it could have as easily been me. Or you.
Until next time.