i cannot speak their language, but
it is strong in my heart;
i saw a child
and i knew then that my heart was the same;
to cross the sand or a river is to make a better life;
but is it to change history or to reclaim it?
is there no remedy?
the movement of the people has always been so,
but the one thing we will not do is sin
and expect to be forgiven;
it is our decision and his life;
he did not ask to go,
now he cannot stay;
the river does not know who suffers the most;
still it rises and falls in the hearts of the helpless;
the only culture we have is the one that changes;
that is freedom;
the only love or hate that is honest,
is what i say to their children
for a child, life;
for his father, pride;
i am not the law, instead
i am light,
because i choose light;
but i am also darkness,
because i hide behind the fear of being wrong,
instead of the courage of compassion;
the fight is in our heart and mind;
it is the way we choose to live and die
these people who cross;
why are they here?
we know why;
is there anyone so strong
who would live where they are not wanted?
is there anyone so weak
who would be afraid of their children?