So Friday, Do You Have Any Extra Pocket Lint for Africa?
She wears her name
across her chest,
for all to see,
from where she came.
A world so small,
yet big to her -
with wars amongst,
themselves and earth.
No fighting she pleads,
but there's not much done.
Yet, she stands so strong
for her family, gone.
She's came so far,
within herself,
though there's
nothing to show,
outside that soul.
No clothes for warmth,
nor hair for beauty.
No time to accessorize,
or buy new shoes.
She's living off the streets,
yet doing her best,
wearing her name,
across her chest,
for all to see,
from where she came.
So Friday, do you
have any extra pocket lint
for sweet, sweet Africa?
It's the least to be done,
and it would change her life,
for the better, good.
Meeting the standards,
and setting them higher.
