Lonesome precious tears, body tortured in poverty.
Painted in dirt, filter with confusion.
Freezing waiting for a miracle to happen, an opportunity out of misery.
Eyes of depressions, and hearts of hunger.
Hoping things will turn for the better, a tough life fighting a battle
for freedom, yet unattainable to fight alone.
Running on faith and prayer.
Eventually a miracle will happen, so then maybe there will be hope
in the future for us all.