They sit huddled in the corner
as if leaving open spaces will make them less entrapped
Playing games and making rules
as if creating boundaries will erase the ones already present
Crafting stones from the dust
as if the earth could shelter them from the sky
Shouting through the bars
as if the wind may carry their voices beyond the walls
Weeping for the dead
as if tears can carry their souls to safety
And, as for you, you sit there on the other side.
While their games exclude you and their rules crush you,
the dust gathers at your feet and your voice barely touches the bars.
Your tears tell the tales of two tragedies.
But I hear you
I’m here on the floor by your side
And if their stones and their shouts turn against you
I’ll rise up to protect you
Even though I may only be a disturbance in the shadow, a flicker of light from outside.
