Robben Island MAG

By Arwen W., Seattle, WA

I walked slowly in the heat
Down the worn path of history
Pondering everything endured
On this small speck of land
Cast offshore
I saw the similarities in this
For people, too, were cast offshore
To this odd place of beauty and rejection

The trail wandered over the baked earth
And parched brown grass
The wind blew hot over my body
And whispered pieces of the past
The grief of a father at the death of a son
Children crying and freedom songs
Gates locking but hope withstanding death

I walked slowly down the worn path of history
Contemplating the land of my birth
Which lay halfway around the world
And found the same stories
Of oppression and hatred
People willing to die for something
Because life wasn't worth living otherwise
The absurdity and repetition of this throughout history
Made me question everything I'd ever known
But soon I came to the water
And the waves broke upon the rocks
And as I looked down at the child on my hip
All troubles vanished from my mind
Replaced by the hope to withstand anything

I stood on a beach
Off the coast of Africa
With the future in my arms

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