The war
Took mama’s arm and
three walls of our little blue house.
The journey
Took five chocolate bars and my favourite doll,
And now I see purple blisters on baba’s feet and-at night-
Tear streaks on mama’s cheeks.
On the way we play a game where
each gate is the next level
we have to unlock
And baba says some guards will be meaner
than the others
That on some days there will be no bread and
our shoes might tear
But that’s okay,
It’s all part of the game and
we need to keep our eyes open while walking,
not stopping to smell the yellow flowers
because at the last gate
There is a warm bed, waiting, with soft pillows,
And blankets to cover my shivering legs.
At the last gate we don’t have to beg and
At the last gate we can stop walking and rest
At the last gate mama and baba will smile
And At The Last Gate
I can close my eyes.

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