Dear Aylan,
We’re sorry you died.
We don’t like the picture.
But you know, it’s not our problem.
Not our problem, those hordes of the nameless,
escaping from places unknown
and oppression undreamed of.
Not our problem, the baby at the border,
screaming in a language
alien to us.
Not our problem, your mother and brother,
drowned as you fled,
hope exstinguished.
Not our problem, those immigrants,
we can’t let them in,
they’ll take our jobs,
and our money.
Not our problem,
the unfaced on Keleti station,
they can deal with them.
Not our problem, because
taking more people is not the answer,
but neither is it for anywhere else.
Dear Aylan, I’m sorry but
you were not our problem.
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Ohh this is heart wenching Liz, I feel so useless in this situation. I wish we were allowed to take some refugees into our home and help them. Mich x