The Shooting Star
(About the plight of Uighur Muslims in China; a poem about the children of refugees) I look at a light ray up above trying to catch it with my scarred red hands But it slips through my fingers sans warmth Just like the people standing far away Waiting to beat us, waiting to help us “learn”; waiting to get us all My heart bleeds and my eyes rain the sad yet well-woven tale of a hundred goodbyes; without goodbyes I yearn as I sleep beside two logs Crying for the warmth of my mama’s hugs I yearn for that morning sun, But alas! It is the morning moon that shines on me Devoid of warmth, devoid of light Devoid of a single ray from the hundred billion I yearn for Yet in the darkness there flashes a light Bit by bit I grab it all; My mouth opens and my hands stretch out As through the broken walls to the e...