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The Voice That Doesn’t Use Words

Samariddhi of Al Jazeera pens the hidden realities and hopes of underage migrants


There is a girl who runs from a reality 

Her feet were never set

She ran from all the words 

Her heart had never said 

There is a girl who runs from a reality 

Her feet tattered and torn 

Leaving behind bloody footprints 

But she still ran towards the hope she was offered 

There is a girl who ran from a reality 

Where her family had slept on lies 

Her feet carry her away 

To a world she believed was free of the untrue

The girl who ran away from the reality 

She believed that she knew 

Her heart told her, as she held on 

“We’ll finally be free” 


The girl who ran from her reality 

Would be breaking and blue 

Her hand was crushed, her body torn 

Her hope still persisting 

The girl who ran from her reality 

Still worked, day and night 

For her family whom she loved 

Her fingers covered in blisters 

as she traced the memories she once knew

The girl who ran from her reality

The one she believed she was familiar to

Accepted the world 

She was thrusted into 

She settled for what she was used to 

Even if, it was the feeling of pain 

For she had no choice, her world now mundane

As her past peeked through 

She couldn’t leave 

She couldn’t hide 

Her world crashed down 

As she yelled, “Stop! Stop!” 


It has been years

She longed to leave 

It had been years 

Since she saw her family 

She traces the time, trapped in memory 

As she sits quietly by the road 

Her heart beating slow 

Her voice finally silenced

She would never again speak 

She would never again feel pretty 

But she would always remain beautiful 

Just as beautiful as the day she ran

Hidden in horrors she was forced in

She would stay permanently 

Once in a while, speaking

With  a voice that doesn’t use words

So. Listen.



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