Perhaps one day I shall go out into the quietened city and recognise myself among the crowds of souls
I will say to them, ‘Hey look there goes the man I really am.
Will they dare to acknowledge me?
No one responds. There is silence ………
Then the world moves on restlessly
making its love,
greed, pride and money, minding its business,
Shamelessly I close my eyes, then rest my mouth
Silence is the only language that does not need an interpreter.
Poem by Abdalla Gabriel, young refugee from Sudan created for the Mixing Room at Te Papa Museum, Wellington, New Zealand
Child Migrant Stories 