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Food Doesn't Grow Here Anymore*
In the western highlands of Guatemala
Living conditions are turning sour
As people face adversity,
Day by day, hour by hour.
Climate change is taking a toll
On the lives of many, especially the poor.
When asked why they're fleeing, they say,
"Food doesn't grow here anymore."
The growth of many of their children is stunted;
Children are dying of malnutrition.
The parents want what all people want
Who find themselves in their position:
They want to leave, to find a place
Where their children can survive--
Where life is not an overwhelming
Challenge of trying to stay alive.
They know the journey north is hard;
Some have died along the way.
What are their options? To take a chance?
One thing's certain: they die if they stay.
Our government threatens to cut off aid
Which would only make matters worse.
That will not stop desperate people
From fleeing; it will do the reverse.
Hear the cries from Guatemala.
Don't close your eyes or cover your ears.
A ghostly lament will echo along
The banks of a dried up river of tears.
-by Bob B (6-7-19)
*Based on a report by Nicholas Kristof
Living conditions are turning sour
As people face adversity,
Day by day, hour by hour.
Climate change is taking a toll
On the lives of many, especially the poor.
When asked why they're fleeing, they say,
"Food doesn't grow here anymore."
The growth of many of their children is stunted;
Children are dying of malnutrition.
The parents want what all people want
Who find themselves in their position:
They want to leave, to find a place
Where their children can survive--
Where life is not an overwhelming
Challenge of trying to stay alive.
They know the journey north is hard;
Some have died along the way.
What are their options? To take a chance?
One thing's certain: they die if they stay.
Our government threatens to cut off aid
Which would only make matters worse.
That will not stop desperate people
From fleeing; it will do the reverse.
Hear the cries from Guatemala.
Don't close your eyes or cover your ears.
A ghostly lament will echo along
The banks of a dried up river of tears.
-by Bob B (6-7-19)
*Based on a report by Nicholas Kristof
