Running from her home she seeks a better life,
An escape from the bloodshed, the tears, the pain and the strife.
At our ports they come by the hundreds it seems,
But her, in her eyes you can see the lost family, her hopes her dreams.
A broken soul with pieces left behind her,
Yet people would still take advantage of her.
Trap her, force her to do unspeakable things,
The tears she'd cry and keep it all in,
On her soul people place their sins.
She tries truly,
Though abused and treated cruely,
Though she's used she looks up lovingly,
Because if she doesn't she'd end up hurt badly.
I'm not proud to say where I'm from,
But this is the situation in my country currently.
Boatloads of Venezuelan refugees come daily,
In hope to escape the hell behind, they stumble into hell here blindly,
While people who care but are powerless, look on sadly.
While we claim on live to see monsters that require supernatural expulsion,
A soul is dieing without justice head held on the guillotine of corruption.
We are the monsters so don't live in fear,
We are the monsters who haunt the people who seek refuge here.
A poem on the current state of my once sweet nation I call home