Born in poverty, raised with hunger, we listened and learned.
God only helps the ones who help themselves they said, and it made sense to us.
We knew what we had to do, we packed our things and left.
We marched thousands of miles toward a better future.
A future with work and a paycheck and food for our families.
We believed and marched on day and night.
Hours, days, weeks passed by but we didn’t mind, we were determined.
Hoping, praying, believing in a better future.
Finally, we arrived, tired and starving at the land we wanted to call home.
After they had spent Sunday in church praying, on Monday they turned us away.
Barbed wires blocked us, guns were pointed at us.
You are not welcome here, we have nothing to share they said and we cried.
Christianity stops at the border. Does God know?