The refugee child

The refugee child

I’ve seen the eyes of the refugee child.
The one that has lived in a tent,
   in a stranger’s home, in a dusty camp;
      away from loves, toys and home.  
The child that just by sitting at the school desk,
   could make a hole in your flesh 
      to see if your heart was still pristine, 
         hence you are worth her trust.
I’ve seen deep fear in the eyes of the refugee child. 
   When rejection or injustice just brushed past him
      in the playground or in the classroom, 
   no matter if he was an ocean away,
      contained and warm, 
      dark ghosts kept pulling him back to devastation,
         again and again.
I’ve seen hope in the eyes of the refugee child.   
The one that learned to laugh and love 
   amidst the sadness and violence around.
And, 
I’ve seen our humanity in the eyes of the refugee child,
   our own creativity and toughness,
      compassion and resolve,    
      which maintains us striving 
         at the center of the merciless storm.