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Down south of the border                               

on Mexican land,

a group of weary travelers

tried to cross the Rio Grande.

They were victims of violence

from countries left behind.

They sought a place of safety

where others could be kind.

All they really wanted

was a place to call home.

They were tired from the journey,

and did not want to roam.

Mothers carried children

and fed them as they walked.

Fathers gave protection

to children as they talked.

They climbed the hill together

and saw a barbwire fence.

Soldiers stood with guns.

It made little sense.

They came in hope of freedom,

and to find some kind of job. 

They did not want to worry

someone would rob

them of what was left

after fleeing for their lives.

They wanted for their children

a place to survive.

Instead, there was an army

with guns and words of hate,

and canisters of tear gas 

to choke them as they wait.

Again they see with sorrow,

the world’s an evil place

as they wipe away the tears

from a child’s face.