Aids Orphans
A Alf Hutchison
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Should the young children
Suffer for our sin,
Does it not grip your trembling
Heart within,
Most folk now are hard of heart,
Oblivious of their plight,
“It’s not my fault, nor can I help
It’s really not my fight”.
Statistics on their plight we read;
Of millions dying every year,
Dying, hungry, naked and alone.
Does mankind really care.
If all the orphaned children,
Were laid side by side;
They’d circumnavigate the globe;
A highway ten feet wide.
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