Pounding at the glass

Submitted by Writer on Thu, 02/15/2018 - 13:14

I am turning,


I am trapped.

Tears tumble 

from red eyes.


What do you mean,

we can't go back?


Trying to contain myself

as I explode inside,

people telling me 

to keep quiet,

people have heard enough.


In an airport,

finally safe and then

she turns around 

and says that 

greencards are yesterdays problem.


I look at her, 

unable to say anything.


I have struggled and 

fought and cried 

for you to tell me 

that i am yesterdays 



I pound on the glass,

hoping to be heard,

but in that moment 

i was invisible,

one more face 

in a tragedy.