Written by: Walani Ndhlovu

Sickness and orphanage is not his choice
In the ears of the world echoes his voice
When he shouts for help you ignore his noise
For problems in the world are always his toys

Help me please 
He still cries for peace
And he’s so polite as he bends on his knees
Beat him. Torture him. Don’t let him have his ease
But you know one day you’ll be punished for this

Little boy has no food to make him health
When you hear his cry he’s fading toward death
A hip pop beat describes his breath
Make lyrics to it. Sing along. Make him loose his faith
But you’ll be the one soon after God grabs your worth

Give him what you ate let him swallow like a frog
For he is proud of what he gets although you feed him like a dog
Let him sleep in the cold night of fog
Put a picture of this fellow on your blog
But if you don’t help him you are just embarrassing this hog

No clothes to wear he has
Nothing nice but a prayer he does
He begs on the windows as they stop, the cars
No woman in the town to claim that he’s hers
Nor a man in the city, they just spend their money in bars

He wasn’t born to struggle
Neither of his hands were meant to smuggle
Nor his life was meant to have no goal
It’s the death of his parents who created this logo.