Paul F. McCann


They leave behind war zones with no idea of their destiny.
Herded like the black sheep members of our human family.
These puppets of democracy walk the roads to jeopardy.
These victims of inhumanity we call the refugee.
Confronted at the border they reach out for theocracy,
they hoped and prayed for a peaceful place to live in liberty.
The eyes of the city had no pity for the refugee,
as they pushed them to the margin line, God help the refugee.
The borders of insanity protect our community,
in case some might escape through to be no more a refugee.