Running out of steam as I cross the border
back into the country of my birth,
how I got into this situation I’m not really sure,
was it my schooling or how I was brought up,
it was hard as a child looking after
my younger siblings after my parents
died in a civil war, and a killer disease.
After so many borders I have been turned
away at this final barrier, and I wonder why?
Hundreds are here with similar stories
and I join them as we try to cross en-mass,
to no avail we are turned back again and again,
we beg to be given a chance to have a new life,
only to be told we are not wanted,
we have been told lies by those in authority,
they promised that they will let us in.
Each day is different from a hearing perspective,
walking regularly helps to orientate oneself,
sometimes your balance is out of quilter,
a walking stick helps keep your equilibrium,
conversations can be interesting and funny,
people never quite hearing what you say,
though their kindness touches you when they say,
hope your leg gets better soon,
and you laugh when they leave you,
to go on your way, next a big day looms,
when you finally enter the town centre.
I’ll start with an empty page,
empty of words or ideas,
however as I go along it will start to fill,
and then there will be something,
what it will be will only surprise us,
I’m nearly there I can feel it within me,
my piece is complete without too much pressure.