Christina A. Sharik

A Ballad of Bricks, Barbed Wire and Butterflies

First were the bricks that made a stout wall
and then the barbed wire on top of it all
flowers grew through it; butterflies landed on top
all of which life, they couldn’t stop.
Here we all sit, in this prison camp,
alone with our thoughts, the bugs and the damp
and it’s dark in our hearts and dark in the night
with never a glimmer or sliver of light.
Sometimes a full moon will rise in the sky
and shine on us here with inquisitive eye
and though the Sun will shine hotly down
we feel we will all drown
with frustration and sorrowful eyes
Afraid of our present, our future, the lies
and I want to wish them
a night free of dreams
free of the illness and
free of the screams
a night without the bricks and barbed wire
a night without darkness and full of bright fire
I wish them freedom and the sweet moving on
that happens when the new lines are drawn
and the gates are thrown open and
the bricks are torn down
the barbed wire is rusted and all tossed on the ground
I wish them freedom, and I wish them wise
enough to fight off the darkness,
and see gold butterflies
that light on the wire, topped with the glass
I hope this time will soon come to pass.
Freedom is lightness and its loss is too bleak
I wish them questions to the answers they seek
Bricks and barbed wire, and butterflies’ flight ~
Come out of the darkness and into the Light.

Submitted for the December 2003 IWVPA Club Theme Project, “Darkness