Ma
07-24-07
The place I call home has
vanished; never again will I see it.
IÕve seen too many bloodshed,
heard too many cries for help, and dropped too many tears for all my Hmong
people.
Each wrinkle on my body
represents the years; my people have been struggling.
I cry for help, I cry for
freedom, I cry for my people.
The blood that was shed cannot
compared to these tear drops.
I am broken; heartbroken and spiritually broken
My body is weak, IÕm old, and I
need to lie down.
Oh, how it feels to be the last
one.
Oh mother, oh father, oh all my
sons and daughters,
Please take me away, away from
all this pain.
Maybe the next life; my family,
we shall unite.
Tonight I sleep, I shall wake up
and all this were a dream.
Yesterday I cried, today I am
crying, tomorrow I will cry.
Where will I ever find home?
All day the jungles of Laos cry, and all the gunshots roar,
But no one hears its silent
tears
Maybe they are deaf from all the
bombs that were dropped,
Maybe from their own ignorance,
Maybe from all the crying at
once,
Yesterday we were being hunted, today weÕre killed, and tomorrow I shall find a home.