Pain is the bloody red of a gun
it’s the gun that destroys a country
it’s the gun that leaves families homeless
it’s the gun that brings pain to others
Pain is the black night that never ends
it’s the night that we all fear
it’s the night that we hide
it’s the night that we cry out in anger
Haiti wants a place where children
can laugh and play without fear
where they can smell the freshly washed clothes
the wind brings, the smell of a mother’s baking
the sweet smell of boiling sugar,
and hear the chickens clucking
or the sound of rain falling on the roof
Will I ever see love bloom again.
Will I ever see the sun shining
instead of Haiti’s dark night.
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