My eyes
01/09/2012 § 4 Comments
For you
I brought them
for you
my eyes
here
on my palm
my eyes
they smell
of dust and fuel
my other eyes
have died
they were only
six years old
they couldn’t look
anymore
I have only
these left
I give them
to you
would you take them?
for news
about my mother
and my brother
too
they separated us
apart
the agents
while travelling
somewhere
yes
I think
Europe
it is the big country
Europe
they weren’t good people
but they gave us food and water
it took me two months
I think
in the back of the lorry
to come to your country
please
would you at least take my eyes?
Tagged: asylum seekers, British Red Cross, family separations, International Tracing and Message Services, poems, poetry, refugees, unaccompanied minors, Writing
I don’t know why or how or whether I should, but I find this beautiful; wrenching in the last line ‘would you at least take my [I presume this should be 'my'] eyes?’ … the child’s account, the child’s story, the child’s life
… no, I’ve come back to this: it could still be ‘me’ in the last line …?
thank you so much… it should be ‘my’.
thank you for your comments. i was away for some time and sorry not to reply earlier. yes, it was a mistake ‘me’ it should be ‘my’. thank you for noticing.