In a tiny boat,
Pushed through the waves,
We were set a float.
We fled our homes,
Left all that we had,
Gathering every penny,
Every piece of jewellery,
And item of value.
With it we bought Hope,
We paid the boatman the fare,
The price of passage high,
Too high,
Hope comes at a premium,
These days.
600 of us,
In a tiny boat,
Taken far out to sea,
And set a float.
The water it is heavy,
As it pulls at my legs,
And puts hands round my throat,
Choking,
Squeezing out every last bit of hope,
Until I have nothing.
600 of us,
In a tiny boat,
Our vessels filled with water,
And we no longer float.
(C) spor
