The boy of sixteen
He was a boy of sixteen,
when he left his country,
he had to,
because his gouvernment
didn't like him.
He grew up very quickly,
try to keep himself alive,
he had to,
because there was nobody
who took care.
He came to our country,
stayed in a refugee's home,
he had to,
because there was no place
else he could stay.
He was a boy of twentyone,
when I met him and invited him,
I had to,
because he was a nice guy
and so alone.
He told me his story,
but he kept things to himself,
he had to,
because he had learned not
to trust too soon.
When I looked at him,
I felt a deep sadness,
I had to,
because they took his future
away from him.
My own girl of twentyone,
how happy she lives her life,
she could,
because she was born
in a free country.
The only thing I can do,
is listen to his painfull stories,
we all should,
because maybe then, we will learn
to stop the fighting.
