Come read this gut-wrenching poem featured on the Rising Phoenix.
They Put Children In Cages, And What Do We Do?
In the sand, an empty plastic bottle,
a woman’s shoe, a child’s t-shirt.
Here blood is water.
The air is part sand and gasoline.
A two year-old curls into himself and cries,
alone for the first time,
a ten year-old huddles against the bars,
hungry, bruised, frightened of the man who
pokes him through the bars sometimes,
a twelve year-old girl huddles in the middle
of the cage, rocking back and forth,
hoping the man who keeps touching her
can’t reach her there, but he has the key
to the door and
Surely a sand storm will destroy it all
and free them.
Surely a plague of locusts will devour
the adults, the guns, the bars, the locks.
Surely the ghosts of all who didn’t quite make it
to the border will rise,
open the cages and lead the children…
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