A small boy travels to a distant land,
knows not his custom, language and hand.

Knows not his value, faith, and face,
knows not his virtue, love, and place.

He's alien in this nation of rules and laws.
By virtue, a rebel without a cause.

Trapped in his place of walls without walls,
an alien by nature when his nature calls.

He seeks out others of similar fate,
he seeks them out before it's too late.

They convince him that their cause is just.
They convince him they alone he must trust.

In a nation without station a plan is hatched,
in an intricate pattern the flax is thatched.

One life for the cause with heaven at stake.
He is now in a trance and will not awake.

He's knock, knock, knockin' on Heaven's Gate.
Please, please stop him before it's too late!

Should have never reached this state:
ostracized, separated, alienated and berate.

When will we learn to confront our fears,
 the alien in our nature that causes tears?


More Poems

My Place

Read War's End, the Novel

Copyright 2006 © Ronald W. Hull


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