Unheard pain was his destiny,
But let us recall the tales of his humanity.
As soon as he locks eyes with the sun, he is up and ready for the run .
He misses out on all the fun,
Just so he doesn't hear our stomachs churn.
He makes the empty and lonely barren lands bloom into a thousand flowers,
Each singing the tune of hope.
He buries his happines along with the seeds,
Just so he sees our families feed.
The cold heart laid his hopes to hang,
from cords of liberty hanging around his cape.
Upon his departure did the dry land weep wet tears, his dreams burning into flames of forlorn.
Now as we hear the dismyal of the nation's cries,
for the one who feeds us fades...
©user477
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