For the dverse prompt, music, poetry and (in this case) protest.
Thousands sailed or walked or crawled
From barren fields with famine scrawled
Across the ocean, desert sands
Or mountains capped with snow.
They left behind their loved ones
And the only life they knew,
Because to stay was death
And that was all they had to know.
Thousands still are sailing
Fleeing hunger, they believe
(Their children like ghosts wailing)
They have no choice but they must leave,
No one leaves his home
If there’s any way to stay,
Whatever hatred’s shouted,
Whatever politicians say,
For the waves they swallow children
As they swallow up the sun,
And we pack up our humanity
Then we turn our backs and run.
We turn our eyes from suffering,
There’s nothing we can do,
Our house is full, no room for more,
Though we know it isn’t true.
We sing our songs of how it was
When all the world was green,
And paradise a cabin
At the end of a bóithrín.
And the songs that they are singing
We know them, they’re the same,
About love and land and leaving
And they should fill us all with shame.