The wire's sharp, the walls are high
And hope flies upward to the sky
Leaving little down below
Except despair, which goes to show
The tears that flow - fall on ears
Of stone.

The beds are soft, the lawns are green
And refugees are seldom seen
In cities where our leaders reign
Wielding power, numb to pain
Of others who are not the same
As us.

Why is it that our souls grow small
When razor wire binds us all
In detention centres full of fear
That we have made to live in here.
Compassion fades as power grasps
For votes.