I saw children through a fence,
standing by blue canvas tents,
I called to them, they moved like ghosts,
gliding, silent and remote.
A girl, whose mouth was a straight line,
looked like a creature out of time.
A grey boy, burnt by cigarettes,
pushed his scarred hands through the fence.
He tried to smile at me and said,
In my place you would have commit
suicide from what I’ve seen.
I found it difficult to breathe.
He said his school became a jail
and armed men tore out fingernails
of children tied with cord and wire.
His face grew old before my eyes.
And when I turned and tried to run
I saw ten-thousand children
were laid in lines, wrapped in white sheets
along a godforsaken street.
I prayed an angel from the clouds
would free the children from their shrouds.
I prayed and waited for an age
I waited but no angel came.