Refraction.

The Promised Land.

I couldn't stay where I was,
So I found the name of the Promised Land
And sketched my route onto the map.
If I rationed what I had,
I'd just about make it:
There was no margin for error,
But that was a risk that I'd have to take
If I wanted to find a life worth living.
I remember that I set off at dusk,
Without a minute left to waste.
I remember how I stumbled in the dark,
How often I tripped and fell,
And for how long those cuts and scrapes
Continued to bleed.
I walked forever, through the storms and the rain,
The blistering sun, the hail and the ice,
And I was surprised to find
That, all around the Promised Land,
There were towering walls, topped with spikes.
My supplies were running low,
Wounds still bleeding, but this was my future.
This was my future, so why wouldn't they
Open the gates?
Why were the walls so high?
I poured out my heart
To the man in the booth, but he wouldn't open the door.
He sat and watched, as I searched for something - anything -
To eat;
The gates remained closed as I wasted away.
I, like him, was human.
Yet, from the look in his eyes, I knew that I was not
Worth the same as the people inside,
The people who were just people, the people
Who were just like me.