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I Still Hear Her Sing

Little girl i know in Haiti

got a broken rib sticking out of her side.

been that way a while now

but she’s got bigger problems in her life.

if she makes it one more day,

wherever she is taken in,

mom and dad have gone away,

she’s just in the wind.

i’ve wasted so much time

just moving the battle lines

one step forward,

one step back again.

in the meantime she’s just trying

to see another sunrise,

keeping Jesus as her friend.

even though the voodoo tells her

God is small and Satan’s great

she has a light in her eyes,

she sees the lies.

they can’t take away.

she sleeps on the floor

she’s not allowed a bed.

on the ground just inside the door,

that’s where she’ll lay her head.

all that I have given her

someone else now owns.

right down to my family picture

hanging in another home.

She has no rights, she has no love.

but I still hear her sing.

A slave to those on the mountain above

but a child of the Most High King.

They beat her when she’s not done enough

yet after all this while,

when our eyes meet, she still gives to me

the world’s most beautiful smile.

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