They herd us like sheep,
We are pushed and jostled till we form a straight line,

They strip of us of our clothes,
And we receive new ones instead,
They don’t really fit us,
And our shoes are too big,
I grip my mother’s hand,

A soldiers walks down the line pointing,
Either to the right or left for each person,
Demanding us to walk in that direction,


The soldier looks me up and down,
Scoffs,
And points to the right,

He shoves my mother to the left,

I scream,
A soldier kicks me and curses,
Telling me that I deserve to be going where I’m headed,

Where am I headed?