The Eyes Of Hope
by Hugh A Tague
My eyes look upon the land of plenty.
From this shelter of canvas and timber.
And still our stomachs are all but empty.
Feelings of happiness are hard kindred .
My breast near empty of life giving food.
I take what I can, that came from the field.
Little comfort for the youngest of my brood.
Mother Nature’s wrath has lessened the yield.
For my children, what future lies ahead?
Will they prosper in the land of the free?
Will I be there? or will I be dead?
A few of the thoughts that keep haunting me.
Thankful that I get to see the sun rise,
And the love and hope in my children’s eyes.