The moon, big and free, above our heads
was surrounded by flickering stars
our feet dragged on the cracked, cold soil
as our eyes peered through the dark.

The idea of uncertain safety
luring each and every child
the hope, that in groups, they'll make it through the night
implanted in every mind.

Old blankets strewn across bare ground
and children stretched above them,
below a roof, hidden from the rain
or by a light too dim.

The unlucky, taken in the ark of the night,
placed in their hands are guns
placed in their minds are lies and hurt.
The unlucky have nowhere to run.

The sun was great and sharp in the sky,
it beat down on our backs,
as we walked along that dirt trail,
our feet dragged on those cracks.