We draw lines in the sand,
On maps,
On walks,
On hearts.
Lines that tell us who belongs,
And who doenst.
Lines that turn neighbours into strangers,
Friends into foes.

We call them borders,
Boundaries,
Nations,
Rules.
As if paper and paint could hold back rivers,
Winds,
Or the puls of a living world.

But the earth doesn’t care.
A bird crosses them without through,
The ocean swallows them whole.
Only we insist on dividing what is meant to flow.
And still,
We fight,
Still we guard our invincible fences,
Forgetting that humanity is not a grid of lines but a shared breath,
A common pulse,
A single home.

What if we erased them?
What if we stopped pretending that lines could make sense of life,
And finally remember that de belong to each other first?