The birds withdrew their flying and their tweetAnd while the call for prayer drifted with the breeze
She sat there weeping beneath the trees.
Making shapes down in the sand
With her pink and still soft hand
Of a family-father, mother, brother and she
Holding hands, smiling with glee.
She gazed at the darkened sky
And Hoped someone heard her cry
Soon diverted her thoughts
To the world far away from this drought.
A world where folks like we
Were nicer, not grumpy
A world where children like she
Had father, mother, bread and honey.
Poor lass, she didn’t know
What awaited her amid this rotten show
While she was too young to understand
The meaning of her picture in the sand
This isn’t eternal, but mortal
She will be freed, she will be free
As God has promised everybody,
Far or near, a recompense,Far or near, a penalty.
Yes! She will be free, she will be happy
With a father, mother, brother
Holding hands smiling with glee…
And then I wonder
If same would be my destiny
Or rather..would it be a penalty?
