Through their eyes
Door to door
Street to street
Her walk, little feet leaving imprints
Of mud and innocence,
selling her fruits and tins.
5 cents a fruit
20 cents a fish
10 cents per yam
The basket on her head
That is too big for her to carry
Weighing down on her steps and slowing her heart;
She cannot go home until it is all sold.
What will the little mouths eat?
She has a shawl draped
over her thin and weary shoulders,
With her thin and weary face
Are sharpened eyes that smolder
Telling of the truth, and the ways
And the days of their lives
That are not ever comfortable or playful;
It is why she does not smile.
Disappearing is the sun
as it sinks to the other face of earth
So that other little girls
May start the fires on their hearth
Or whatever it is that other little girls do.
This one walks on and on
vanishing out of sight
And she knows, though she keeps knocking
Door to door to door,
street to street to street,
there will be no meal for the little mouths
and that there will be no bed for her tonight.
All over this world trouble remains
Every man thinking about the rules of the game
But no-one is praying for the answer to find
The secret to happiness for all of mankind.
Every day, a little hope fades
Lost in the ocean, consumed by the waves
Of poverty and hunger, felt in the hearts
Of my young sisters living so far apart.
And into the distance of the path that we walk
We’re surrounded by silence for we never talk.
SCREAM AT THE TOP OF YOUR LUNGS SO MAN CAN HEAR YOU AND HELP OUR DAUGHTERS RISE WITH HOPE~
