Sometimes In April...
Sometimes in April, the rains come,
And the memories and smell of death;
Bodies in the streets, blood on the ground,
A genocide of God's breath...
No one cared, no one came;
Rwanda was left to hell,
The worlds heart turned blind and cold,
When eight hundred thousand fell...
One hundred days of terror reigned
On women and children and men...
An entire world ignored this evil,
And became a part of this sin...
Where were the ones so ready to war,
When their rights are stepped upon?
Were these not our neighbors?
Left to face the devil alone?
Sometimes in April, the rains come,
They still bring sadness and pain,
Suffering need be remembered,
As to not repeat again...
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