A Poem

An endless sea of footsteps
Crashing upon the shores of darkness,
Marching to the beat of the rapidly setting sun.
As shadows lengthen and daylight fades to nothingness
The pace quickens and the anxiety builds.
But the travelers walk unseen in open view.
The young minds race at a speed
Equal to that of their frightened steps
“Will we get there in time?”
“Will it be safe?”
“Will we survive the night?”
Yet not a word is spoken to the world.
The weary travelers look cautiously
At the faces of their fellow marchers
“Whose side are they on?”
Fearing the ambush of a terrifying enemy, they journey forward
To the bus park, to the verandas, to the hospitals
But no one notices.
There are no children playing here
No joyous songs or laughter
They journey on one step at a time
Hundreds, Thousands pass by daily
A train so large it is impossible to be ignored
Yet they are merely flickering shadows to the world.
Gunshots shatter the silent march
The flight begins to gather speed
Screams of anguish fill the evening air
The travelers continue on steadily
Ceaselessly, endlessly, purposefully
And totally unnoticed.
The travelers do not hesitate
The cost of such an act is death, or worse
There are no tears for this train of souls to shed
Only blood
Thus tirelessly they march on
And no one hears a word
No one comforts, soothes, or calms
Their fears, their anguish, or their nightmares
No one offers them solace or safety
It is as if these travelers
Do not exist
They are invisible to the eyes of the world
Their cries remain unheard
Their tears remain undried
And their survival remains unlikely
They are invisible
And they are only children
Can you see them now?