Border Agents Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Border Agents

I swear
If alive or if dead
Will reveal the secrets.

Will write and explain
The dirty, filthy games
Played by the agents
With stamp of "Border! "

Having all the power
They set rules to play.

Take bribe, or are fooled
To let in the cruel
While shatter the lives of
The patients, families…

But for the prologue:
Mohammad and U-Line.

Felt honoured when in jail
Taught the poor, also learned.

One among many who
Opened jar of his pains
Was border officer.

His name was Mohammad
And was a lieutenant.

He applied for a loan
For paying the doctors
To cure his daughter…

Bureaucrats, governments
Work, only for themselves,
Never see soldiers' pains,
Their running here, there
During nights, and days
To bring peace and calm
To nations, coming from!

His daughter was too sick
And needed medicine…

Had he been rich enough
Would never get involved
With danger of the guns.

Yet he did due to need:
"And in vain was indeed! "

Taliban paid his bills,
Befriended, bought him.

He allowed the trucks
Of opium and drugs
Easily come, cross
And drive in Iran.

His eyes red with tears
Felt too bad and in shame:
"Had to save my daughter."

Story was longer
I wrote and registered.

Now, here, billionaire
A Trump supporter
Has crossed the border
While many are begging
To meet dying parents:
"Crossing is unsafe! "

God bless my mother,
She had a proverb:
"One roof, two climates! "

I lost love, home, shelter
And wife and children
Because of such agents,
These corrupts, ignorant!

Must I not divulge them?