The smell of salt is heavy
Waves crash against the boat
The state is pandemonium
The boat rocks
Violently,
As if knowing
One wrong move
Will tip the scale.
I hold tight to my teddy
My last reminder of home
Which was left to ruins,
The sound of
Whistling footballs
Crashed through the roof
Taking my father’s pride.
Now he is hollow
With a haggard beard
And a half-bandaged face.
It’s a long night,
A convoy without end.
Boats stocked full with
People
Fleeing from the conflict,
Some with nothing
But clothes on their backs,
Worst of all
Are the smugglers
The wolf amongst
The shaved sheep.
Off in the distance,
A faint glow,
moving quickly.
I beckon to the captain
“We’ve got another one’’
He lets out a long sigh
And steers the metal beast,
Like a moth to
Candle light
A thick fog
Envelops the boat,
A beam of light
Penetrates the cloak
Of darkness,
Eyes squint.
The boat slows down
As its engine hiccups
Everyone panics
My father is Praying,
I follow his lead.
The blinding light
Hits us,
A ladder drops
Uniformed men come down
I am sent up first.
I stare into the face of a boy
He stares back,
I ask his name
He answers
“I am Rafik’’.
Article 22
You have the right to special protection and help if you are a refugee (if you have been forced to leave your home and live in another country), as well as all the rights in this Convention
