Westward
As the scorching earth turns the parched earth to dust,
Making each day an effort to continue yet we know we must.
Behind them was Missouri and the life we had,
It was a happy life until things went bad.
Papa tried to make it work and for a while he did.
It was not long after the war things changed,
It soon was noted that nothing would ever again be the same.
It was mama who suggested it was time to move on.
So in this wagon that now serves as our home,
With three hundred other souls we travel along.
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