Three Meter Zone | JD's Bunker | Poetry | Chapel | American Journal

A Country Not Our Own

Robert M. Mayhew

Sergeant First Class

Operations NCO

In childrens eyes

Despair abounds,

In every village

In every town.


No one to mentor

No one to guide,

No community spirit

No national pride.


Fathers come

And fathers go,

As nonchalantly

As a picture show.


Commitment’s as prevalent

As snow in this land.

Responsibility can fill

The palm of one hand.


People are shackled

‘Round the ankles and wrist,

In poverty they anguish

They writhe and they twist.


Haves’ and have nots’

A heartbreaking display,

Of disparaging greed

That won’t go away.


How can they do this

To their beautiful land?

A tropical paradise

Could be found in this sand.


Children could frolic

With love and with care,

Knowing that Mom

And Dad would be there.


Children could grow

With respect and with pride,

With love and compassion

Nurtured deep down inside.


They’re a natural resource

Giv’n every country on earth,

Here, a dismal fate

Stalks them at birth.


How do you breach

This absence of love,

They have for each other

And for God above?


So many questions

So much pain.

When will it stop,

When will it wain?


Copyright © Robert M. Mayhew