Nothing will grow for them anymore.
The dirt has become too dry to yield anything.
The woman walks to and from the shore.
She wonders if her life means something.
For if her life meant what she hoped it did.
God wouldn’t let her suffer like this.
If God didn’t care he wouldn’t have blessed her with a kid.
A child now forlorn, his stomach aching, she doesn’t want her son’s life to be amiss.
The disease has taken their way of life.
So it is certain that they will die.
If she had known the way it would end, she wouldn’t put her son through his strife.
The only thing she can do now is ask the Holy Father why.
She puts the young boyo on a ship.
She knows it’s for the best.
For if the lad stays here, he’ll only suffer life’s whip.
And the boyo is gone from view, he has now headed west.
His Mother hopes he makes it to the land, where he will no longer be poor.
Little did she know he didn’t make it.
Like so many that came before.
His mother can only dream, the life that never was, as she’s forced from her wit.
She dreams of his millionaire lifestyle; that he is well fed.
But his body is dumped upon shore, with so many more.
Little does the woman know, her son is dead.
