Half Rations, Half a Life

Half Rations, Half a Life (For the Rohingya Refugees) Six dollars left—what can it buy? A grain of hope, a whispered cry. A child's small hand, an empty plate, A fate too cruel, a world too late. Rohingya hearts, weary and torn, Chased by waves, by hate, by storms. Yet now we fight a silent war, Against the hunger at our door. Six dollars—what a dog may eat, Yet for us, it’s life’s heartbeat. A mother’s tears, a father’s pain, While hunger knocks again, again. Is kindness lost? Is mercy gone? Must we beg to just hold on? Half a ration, half a dream, Half a voice that no one heeds. Will the world just turn away, Or hear our cries, not let us fade? For hunger burns, and hearts still yearn, For love, for food—for our return.