The Boy From Across The Border

He lived in the heart of the green valley,
The mountains were his backyard alley.
He slept under the thousand stars of the sky,
And drank from the gurgling streams that carried melted ice.

He skipped and hopped across the hills with ease,
And carried with him a facade of radiance and peace.
Through winding lanes and slippery slopes he raced,
Chasing butterflies until he was outpaced.

Come summer and the excited tourists waved at him,
A poster boy of the hills; he braved a smile at them.
Enthusiastic visitors were enchanted by the little one,
To the shutterbugs, he was the Chosen one.

Beneath the rosy cheeks were many a tears unseen;
The charming dimpled smile was only ever a smokescreen.
Of a happier place, he often had dreams,
But they ended more often with tears and soft screams.

It was only in the silence of the night,
That a solitary wail echoed loud and clear.
It was only when there was not a soul in sight,
That the orphaned Refugee wept with fear.