A little child with wide sad eyes,
Looked straight at me, as I watched TV,
A migrant, a refugee, it took me by surprise,
Because, a child in distress was all I could see.
Her Father held her in protective embrace,
Pleading for help, tears covering his face,
They should not be labelled, no judgement made
All we should do is just come to their aid.
Will the world never learn, that war will not stop?
The warlords who draw swords, and kill for the sake,
Perhaps they all should be burnt at the stake,
But that makes us just as bad, to my mind,
Because they are still, all part of mankind.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem