A little black boy three years old
sits among the dirt.
Open sores upon his face
but he cannot feel the hurt.

big fat flies crawl over his flesh,
feeding on the puss.
He doesn’t heed them,
He’s too weak to make a fuss.

His rib cage stands prominent’
covered only by his skin.
The boy’s belly is bulbous’
but his body is very thin.

Bones are showing through his skull,
and he’s weeping through each eye.
Every person around him there,
knows he’s going to die.

He’ll be hungry he’ll be thirsty,
when he finally die’s
But he will join thousands of others,
under the African skies.