For I have not seen food for weeks,
Am poor in body and spirit.
I see the promised receive
their gifts,
And as thou I may ask,
I fear they see me as a
mosquito or knat,
Not the maiden.
Even when I ask,
I am told they have nothing,
A lie that makes them feels
as thou have too little.
For I know I cannot be
hungry,
To show fear, to cower, to
grovel
Will not get me closer to the
Promised Land.
As my head is heavy from pain
I shall rise.
For when their heartless
souls will not give,
My strength and inner pride
Will make them admire who I
am.
And they will see me as
royalty,
To earn my respect.
My time will come.
All I have to do is wait.
