Just A Little Refugee Girl

• Kirsten Hicks, Grade 7
• Poetry
• 2018

When others smile, in pain I cry out,
And when they drink, I witness drought.
They have beds, but I sleep on dirt,
And when they heal, I still hurt.
I hate this life – why does it have to be me?
I finally find a decent home, and then I have to flee.
Of the frequent sound of gunfire, I live I fear,
And it is my daily hope that the evil in this world would somehow disappear.
Bullets - with the power of a storm they crack through the air,
But they just keep coming which shows that about us, no one cares.
Diseases here are inevitable - that, I know,
And they make it hard to travel quickly when we really have to go.
Death will come very soon, I’m sure,
Or at least I’ve been telling myself that since the start of this war.
But then, I guess no one will care about me in ten years - I’m just a little refugee girl.
The wealthy will keep living, oblivious to the rest of the world.