Border Crossing

I’m tired of the skies that won’t smile warmth on us this morning.

Just as soon as we stepped into freedom, and this place called hope,

The skies turned dark, and the wind shifted as if to say,

nope.  

I’m tired of looking back at blacker skies where thoughtless drug lords and

Gun runners terrorize the nights, but my little angel daughter, a toddler wearing pink and wonder,

Wants to know what’s ahead, and to be told just what she should think.

I’m tired of eating dust, and brushing prehistoric dirt from my hair.

The uniformed men with latex blue hands only say that they care. I guess that is what their badges are for. Move it along or go home.

And so, the journey begins again, as I stand here and stare.

I’m so tired of walking, and so tired of despair.