A million miles over
Cities toppled over like broken glass,
Raging waters with pointed teeth,
Familiar hands lost to the journey,
And hardships nobody on this
Seemingly godforsaken planet
Deserves to endure,
And at the very end of the very last mile,
What right do you have to say,
"You are not welcome here"?
Have you seen the fire that burns
In the orphaned children?
Have you seen the blood of your loved ones
Spilled across your feet?
Have you faced death in the eyes and
Felt his presence in your shadows?
Or have you instead,
Thought the valiantly wandering refugees as
A threat to your quiet life?
I ******* dare you
To look their people in the eyes and tell them
They could be suspected of being terrorists.
I suspect them of being nothing but humans,
Because assuming the worst from not one, but
An entire population--
What kind of logic is that? And
What kind of heart do you have that cannot see
People in need? People that need a place,
If even temporarily, to call home?
Rather,
What kind of heart is it that you lack,
That cannot find the good in people to
Cherish as if you knew their name? And
What kind of heart is it that you lack,
That cannot open your own eyes to the dystopia that is our world
And try to help at least
One
Wandering soul