globalpoverty
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Bare feet wandering around the city,
Smiling ear to ear,
The sound of their laughter between the chaos and the smoke,
Their cries unheard in the city of dead at the crack of dawn,
Bare feet wandering around the city,
Smiling ear to ear,
The sound of their laughter between the chaos and the smoke,
Their cries unheard in the city of dead at the crack of dawn,
We prepare long and hard Sweating and in pain We arrive and the the air is dry and stiff I hear no language that I know And acknowledge my detachment from familiarity We arrive to our new home After a bumpy ride In a run-down, old, moldy bus The
Take me back to the days of a Ghanaian sunset.
When hope dwelled above the waters of despair
And I gazed into the eyes of a sinking soul.
Where trust and fear were honest and pure --
