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Today, like many days, the sun rose.
I ran and opened my door,
my rickety, ugly cardboard door.
My shack is stuck here on the hot, killing sand,
covered with piercing words: Graffiti.
My life is a death trap and I am not able to get out.
I dream of living in a palace where
kings and queens dwell;
I see it across the border,
someone’s future framed by wire diamonds
I can only look through.
There stands a building,
big,
beautiful,
busy,
bustling crowds, in and out,
out and in.
Clothes, sodas, food, candy, makeup, money, hope;
they even have hope.
Do they know about the other side?
Hunger, sickness, brokenness, thirst, poverty.
Do they see it across the border too?
Do they look through their diamonds
and see me?
Mikaela Klassen, age 12, attends SunRidge Community Church, Kelowna, B.C.
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