Catch the rain, empty hands. Save the children from their lands. Wash the darkness from their skin. Heroes from the West. We don't know you, we know best. But this is not a test You treat me like
There is a river that washes you clean. There is a tree that marks the places you've been. Blood that was spilled, although not your own. For all of your tears Are the wages for things you've done.
I whisper,"You don't have to worry, we'll survive". Forced smiles underneath the brittle, frozen light. No proof that you're alive. Cold fingers find the curve below your tired eyes. No comfort in