My child raise your head high
there aint no shame in poor
when the rich would stand by
and watch you starving, crying, reaching
for something in the distance while we’re preaching,
for God to come closer/let him see things,
acts of mischiefs? We’re still breathing?

I see confusion in your eyes child
don’t be afraid your free to cry child
cry a stream and row (row) to God, child
cause there aint no hope in this life child
I swear to you this aint no lie child
their excuse is “Well this isn’t my child”

This poem was written/submitted by Ahlam.