Local
The Feeding Bag Boy
A true story of the Africa
Cover Thread (Source: https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/5c/f5/ce)
African child with his mum
There was no morning, there was no sun rise
Nothing but a sorrowful lost stare and the little hands,
Holding a feeding bag and that tube stuck into her hands
Another story was there in those poor African parts
Where a medical tube separated two combined hearts,
Where millions of organizations could never organize,
A single “˜normal´ life to those innocent little butterflies
Oh, what a pity ..
One Day, on my way to the blue world embodying the real one for me
And allowing me to talk freely with my friends and my family
That Facebook that used to make me both happy and unhappy
That Facebook that used to gather the parts of the galaxy
I saw a little African child in what seemed to be a white shirt ,
Where millions of organizations could never organize,
A single “˜normal´ life to those innocent little butterflies
Oh, what a pity ..
One Day, on my way to the blue world embodying the real one for me
And allowing me to talk freely with my friends and my family
That Facebook that used to make me both happy and unhappy
That Facebook that used to gather the parts of the galaxy
I saw a little African child in what seemed to be a white shirt ,
Standing like a junior doctor working the night shift,
A question mark on his face told lots of stories
And a pathetic eye accumulating dozens of worries
An African poor child raising the feeding bag of his mother
Maybe checking her pulse too, or thinking to call his father
But there was no stethoscope and there was no father
Because there were no human voices around
A question mark on his face told lots of stories
And a pathetic eye accumulating dozens of worries
An African poor child raising the feeding bag of his mother
Maybe checking her pulse too, or thinking to call his father
But there was no stethoscope and there was no father
Because there were no human voices around
Only bodies lying lonely on the ground
Lonely he was, the African child with no ability
Standing disappointed ,unlike the statue of liberty,
That “˜s enlightening only Manhattan and some imaginary worlds
As the real world is wasting time and words
Alas..That statue could never see the sad faces overseas,
That statue could never feel their empty poor bellies
Lonely he was, the African child with no ability
Standing disappointed ,unlike the statue of liberty,
That “˜s enlightening only Manhattan and some imaginary worlds
As the real world is wasting time and words
Alas..That statue could never see the sad faces overseas,
That statue could never feel their empty poor bellies
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