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The Crossing book cover
POEMS
Created: 9th May, 2022

102 days before

The police attack us at night.

Catch us as we try to sleep.

Round us up like cattle.

Hamid and I are taken to a processing centre.

 

We’re only ten minutes in the coach.

I had no idea prison was so close.

Memories of the centre in Turin

come flooding back.

My heart beats fast

and my legs go weak

as I picture another

barbed-wire cage.

 

We are told we’re

illegal migrants.

Baba used to say,

 

Everyone is on the move,

always has been,

always will.

 

What makes it OK?

The colour of your skin?

There are British

who live in Europe.

They are called expats,

not immigrants.

Language can so easily

put you on top

if you’re lucky enough

to be the ones

giving out the labels.

 

I guess migration is only

a human right

if you are the

right kind of human.

 

© Manjeet Mann from The Crossing, Penguin Random House

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Manjeet Mann - 102 days before

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