What is it that makes you think
that you can wave our flag,
and stand on behalf of us,
and shout angrily in our name?

What is it that makes you think
that we need protecting from
young children and families
who’ve fled from foreign lands?

Does it make you feel big to send
the fearful to hide in their rooms
for safety, when they came
looking for refuge here?

But even as I type
I find that I must pause,
realise my frailties,
and look beyond the waves.

Underneath perhaps the same
uncertainties play out,
as old securities
are lost and all’s at sea.

O, still, small voice of calm,
If only we could reach
beyond the rhetoric
of populist and paper.

Forgive our foolish ways.

On Friday I cycled through protests at our local asylum seeker hotel. I found myself feeling angry at what was going on, angry at the impact this would be having on the people I know there. This poem started as an angry response at those who didn’t take time to think about the humanity of those they were targeting, but was I guilty of becoming what I was accusing them of?
(17.08.25)

© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by balesstudio on Unsplash