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Refugee Child
I am six,
But not sick.
I am short haired,
But not scared.
I have blue eyes,
But not oblivious to lies.
Momma told me, we would be safe here,
This is the land of the free my dear.
We can play hopscotch outside,
And not have to run and hide.
I can go to school and learn,
And not wonder who will be killed, who’s turn.
They talk about sending us back,
Refugees to the place we left as refugees.
I’m six and scared and don’t know the difference between truth and lies.
The land of bullets and bombs awaits,
I beg everyone to save us, for Christ’s sake.
Momma says to smile and be strong,
I’m the man of the house, since daddy died, it feels like so long.
He told us to leave him to die,
I froze and couldn’t even cry.
He told us to just run,
That his life was done.
I still can remember his blown up feet,
I’d kill the man who did it if we ever meet.
I don’t want to go back to the land where my father’s body lays.
I kiss the 50 stars and 13 stripes hoping I can stay.

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