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The Refugees

In the shabby train no seat is vacant.
The child in the ripped mask
Sprawls undisturbed in the waste
Of the smashed compartment. Is their calm extravagant?
They had faces and lives like you. What was it they possessed
That they were willing to trade for this?
The dried blood sparkles along the mask
Of the child who yesterday possessed
A country welcomer than this.
Did he? All night into the waste
The train moves silently. The faces are vacant.
Have none of them found the cost extravagant?
How could they? They gave what they possessed.
Here all the purses are vacant.
And what else could satisfy the extravagant
Tears and wish of the child but this?
Impose its canceling terrible mask
On the days and faces and lives they waste?
What else are their lives but a journey to the vacant
Satisfaction of death? And the mask
They wear tonight through their waste
Is death's rehearsal. Is it really extravagant
To read in their faces: What is there we possessed
That we were unwilling to trade for this?

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Comments

  • Odyssey
    February 11, 2004
    Edit | Reply
    I couldn't decide if this was discussing a train wreck or not: there are clues that suggest this...

    "Undisturbed in the waste of the smashed compartment"
    "Dried blood sparkles"
    "What else are their lives but a journey to the vacant satisfaction of death?"

    But, I think it is more just dramatic scene setting...explaining the harsh conditions and savage nature of their escape root.

    It is a poignant question he asks…

    How rich are our lives that others would submit themselves to further hardship, in an effort to attain what we take for granted. And when we complain about the smaller things, perhaps we should pause to remember those who would die just to have our problems.