The First Day

Black barred border, jagged edge:

It felt more like a prison.

With a kiss and a shove I was sent

Hurtling. ‘It will be alright son,’

With my sad eyes, solemn. Abandoned

We marched into a room, too big

Yet too small for us, tinned sardines.

Tall, towering, brown eyes beam,

Burning my chest as words belittle.

A commander’s tone to teach us

When to sit; when to eat.

We must not talk, we do not speak.