Hey mister
can you spare me
some?
It's been a while since I
have tasted anything other
than the soil from the
land of my father
Sadly
my father's gone and
so as his land
I think the gods took it...
He was ill, very ill and
couldn't plow the field
no
more
My mother's gone too
I can't even remember if she
was taken too or left or
died
But I remember
her face, her
sadness-riddled face
She wanted more than
more but...
Do you think I'll be like my
mother?
But I
am still young
Perhaps
for now, I'll wear a mask and
dance for the
gods...