Bare feet and cracks in my heel,
Stripped of my dignity,
My confidence sucked from me,
My ripped clothes in a pile,
They know I am only a child,
Barefoot and naked,
My future as black as the tarmac I stand on,
But somehow I know that I will make it.
I rest my weary worn out body,
On a jagged volcanic rock,
I dream a brainless urge to stay alive,
I don’t know who I am anymore,
I sometimes don’t want to live anymore.
I am from an island,
It may seem that we laugh a lot,
But our spirits are crushed,
Just like the sun struggling to shine through black clouds,
Our souls are struggling to shine too,
Battling in a sea of corruption,
Little or no action, plenty of talking,
St Helena Island your days seem done,
Never give up, never stop,
Stand grand,
St Helena island, faraway land. Dorothy maude .com.
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