Asking for the Moon, by Roberta Monokroussos

My children and I wake up hungry at the border
So many people congregate in anxious disorder
We fled from our country to seek asylum
Our lives were in jeopardy; I am glum

I journeyed no food or money
clutched my children one by the hand
my baby in my arms afraid
for our safety, tired and hungry

Honduras in extreme poverty
the homeless street kids everywhere
join gangs—the Maras—no escape
no opportunity no safety

We have escaped from the violence
Some boys and men climb the fence
Persecuted by gangs without defense
we seek a “credible fear” interview
Hoping for humanitarian common sense

The border is closed this Sunday afternoon
Hope we shall find asylum very soon
We looked through the border fence
Hoping for humanitarian common sense.
The sun sets as we ask for the moon

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