Farewell, The water bode
In the corner sits my daughter,
Her skin dry and lips chapped
<br>
She begs those who walk by for water
<br>
The people walk by, their responses are apt
<br>
No says one woman, we need some for us
<br>
Although my daughter cries, and clamors and calls
<br>
Not a single drop of water, into her pitcher falls
<br>
<br>
<br>
My son is at war, but he isn’t fighting for others
<br>
He’s at war with his body, his own blood and flesh
<br>
He screams in his sleep, calling for his brothers
<br>
He wants to show them the water he sees, falling so fresh.
<br>
Dreams are the only places we can get water
<br>
He kicks and rolls, aching to get there first,
<br>
But none of the water in his dreams can slake his thirst.
<br>
<br>
<br>
My wife she tries to make dinner
<br>
No soup, no broth, no brine
<br>
She tries to feed us, though she keeps getting thinner.
<br>
She thinks water is like a diamond, with its irresistible shine.
<br>
She’s wrong though, water is more precious
<br>
Water is a rare gem, it sparkles and shines
<br>
In a lagoon with flowers, that hang low on vines.
<br>
<br>
<br>
Outside in the heat my brother does strive
<br>
To push muddy water from the pump
<br>
And in his mind the water comes alive
<br>
It is a beautiful woman, gorgeous and plump
<br>
He too has been taken by the water’s sweet temptation
<br>
His skin is like paper, it is drying out
<br>
As we continue to try to live in this drought
<br>
As for me, I walk the long road
<br>
With a pot upon my head
<br>
Even as a small child I strode
<br>
Along this dried river bed
<br>
But back then there was water
<br>
Oh! How it glowed.
<br>
But as the world grew hotter
<br>
Farewell, the water bode.
<br>
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