‘Over the Border’ by Lauren Simcock-Sims, Age 13

Over the border,
The invisible line,
Hour by hour,
I do not feel fine.

Whole lives packed in small bags,
On weary aching backs,
No clue where we’re going,
Just hope we’re coming back.

Over the border,
We carry our dreams,
Away from our homes,
Away from regimes.

The journey is gruelling,
Our souls losing strength
From morning to evening,
Our hearts torn to shreds.

Through screaming and crying,
And destruction and poverty,
Through illness and dying,
To find happiness and prosperity.

We find ourselves in centres,
For months at a time,
Called shoplifters and job stealers,
Where do we draw the line?

Over the border,
Safe from danger and pain,
But is everything really fine,
As soon as you cross the invisible line?