The Walk Of Partition By Chloe Jackson

Alone, deserted in the streets.
I felt lost.
We were like sheep,
we felt better travelling together.

People with guns,
shooting and stealing.
We were weighed down.

Hot, dry and sandy,
rocks and stones covered the path,
bare feet were blistered and hot.
Houses we passed were empty.

We had to ignore the cows whining.
Tress and bushes were dead.

Dehydrated and starved,
we had to struggle on.