Jul 10
poem 0 comments challenge: Out

Numbers

We  all stared at that clock,
numbers flashing red against the board.
Ten...nine...eight..
We all held our breath, holding tight to our loved ones in that panicked throng.
Seven...six...five..
I heard a child start to sob,
her cries loud enough for the whole room to hear.
Four...three...two..
I whispered to the baby in my arms, my voice soft. 
She was lucky to be asleep, her silver bow pristine on her head.
One.
The door opened at the end of the room, light flooding in.
I shielded my eyes, the child nestled in my coat waking.

I was there when the time ran out.
We were all there when the time ran out.
As the crowd surged to the final stage of our journey, 
the buzzer rang, we immigrants ran through that gate,
finally free from our past.

As I stood on that hill, looking away from the state behind us,
I could see our whole future laid out for that world to see.
Time didn't run out for us. It ran out for them.
The monsters that prowled the streets, haunted our dreams, stole everything we had,
could no longer reach us.