Seeking Asylum

The queue is long

like a train serpentine,

crawling in silence

at the borders;

the faces, all vacant

like scraps of humanity

littered away,

forgotten by destiny.

Whiplashed by laws,

life is but a crime scene

tracing detailed fingerprints

of pain.

Scanning an entire life

bending it with

whimsical pressure of

the bureaucratic thumb.

And all the while

the blue digits on the arm

scream: You're only a number.

Seeking asylum.