The Road

We have walked for two days now,
Resting mama says is not safe for us,
My feet are sore and baby howls,
We are of the road, the forgotten ones.

The sun is harsher here, the wind strong,
Cars feel hot on my skin as we beg,
Hunger comes and goes but hope is long gone,
The dust of the road has made home of my legs.

In silence we bear our impossible test,
Mama walks on, as if she feels no pain,
Never once complaining of hunger or thirst,
Maybe one day it will rain.

Work Inquiries