Ash and Dust

The ash and dust has turned their faces black

Their backpacks are nothing more than a sack

The pencils are just sticks in the dust

and the paper is metal that has been tainted by rust

Their seats are nothing more than the ground

and they learn the alphabet only by sound

This is my dream job

In a country where children have been robbed

from their chance of an education

from their chance from having an imagination

I am the teacher

and although my arms are not long enough to reach

I touch their faces

this is a place where discrimination isn't about race

This is Africa

life is more than grades and algebra

They learn to survive

but don't know how to count to five

This is a place of ash and dust

in this schoolroom with no pencils or seats and paper made of rust

But this is where I belong

I don't teach them, they teach me how to be strong

This is a place of more than ash and dust

I can show them how big the world is

and they show me what life is 

From America where life is about fame

they show me that children here just have to survive the day.

This is home.

 

 

 

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