I came to your border
walking the paths of longing,
running from bullets and bombs,
of hunger and meaninglessness,
looking for the hand of solidarity.
I looked up to contemplate
the height of your walls of iron, steel and cement,
I brought my knee to the ground.
and picked up the pieces of hope.
Then, I hoisted the flag I have engraved on my chest,
that no one knows and no one respects,
I lifted it as high as I could,
and I moved it back and forth,
to spill their colors near the horizon.
You didn't listen to me, you didn't see me, you just told me
the way back,
that of discouragement and hopelessness,
gagged and covered with barbed wire.
Sitting in front of you,
I understand your flag is a bloody bullet,
that your border is the seed of shame,
that your path is neither back nor forth,
only the path of selfishness.
Here I will be, in front of you,
dreaming of being hope,
with being a ray of sun and moon
to cross the walls of your frontiers
and make your flags invisible
