I see the children starving and thin so weak their little bodies make no din. No harvest to collect no cattle to bring in just baron land dust and sand.
Disease gets a grip while they are a kip. Another child lost to famine another family takes a hit.
They come to blight you, why would they fight you kill all your men oh what will stop this war? This famine this hurt what can we do to stop death being a dead cert.
Food comes on the back of a truck, rice and water with any luck. Yet your government accept no blame as they carry on this killing game. Still buying their guns and planes.
The world is not listening nor does it care, after all, we are not there. One third of the world eats two thirds of the worlds food, it’s not fair why can’t we share. So, we don’t see the little children with their death stare the one on the telly showing their despair.
Soon you hope the rains will come and so new shoots can yield a crop and no more children will Sercombe
We are all human and share basic dreams, we all know what your loss means, but we are too busy eating our greens and showing the world how mean we can be. It’s not one person, it’s up to us all the counties government, the gun sellers, you and me yes one and all.
Rhythm of the Ink 