Just a cup of hope
How can they cope?
When they cannot get a cup of hope
Though abundant rivers of it in our home
Who plotted on the people this coup?
As the lips dry up, thirsty like those lost in the dry desert’s hole
Rivers of hope stares right upon their cracked lips
…their broken faces
Orchestrated by distance
Sure need a long rope
Where will they go?
After their entire home is turned Rome
That other race flung and scattered for their hope
The people’s home is a pilgrimage
they cannot get just a cup of hope
I am a member of the WRR editorial team.