WHERE HAVE ALL THE CHILDREN GONE?

“Where have all my children gone?”

I heard a mother pray.

“Who came and piped the siren song

That whisked them all away?”

“I had my hopes. I had my dreams

That I would see one day

My children’s futures, hopes, and means

Would blossom here to stay.”

Alas, so many Mothers call

And wish for this to be

They gaze out through the mist and pall

They look, but cannot see

Their children are not coming back

They’ve gone away from here

To find a place that does not lack

Where work is free from fear

The fear is that the wealth you’ve earned

Is taken from your hand

And given to the ones who’ve spurned

Your home, your work, your land

They watched their parents hard at work

Sweat beaded on the brow

While leaders sneak with smile and smirk

To blunt the sharpened plow

The children know this land is rich

Yes, wealth is here to find

But who will clean the cluttered ditch

From drivers who are blind

They love this land.  Tho’ this is true!

The child must make a choice

To build a dream and see it through

They must have a voice

And so they leave with youth and strength

They say, “Goodbye” to Maine

With hopes in tow and fears at length

We smile through tears of pain

We know with dread we cannot keep

Our little ones close by

Be herded ‘round like mindless sheep

Be fed a mindless lie

The exodus of children west

It’s happened for some time

Thirty-five long years, at best

It should be called a crime

For all these years through leadership

Bold promises were made

We would be the best equipped

If more taxes just were paid

We bowed our backs.  The burdens grew

We bent beneath the lash

They could make our hopes renew

Just give them some more cash

Our children watched us toil away

Their face and thoughts were grave

They should not stay and wait to pay

To be Augusta’s slave

So they filed towards the West

Where they could earn their keep

Keep what you earn; it’s for the best

Now hear the tramping feet

The feet of children leaving us

For they refuse to pay

For addled wits that tax us plus

And multiply each day

We oft have asked with no reply

For thirty-five years or more

If the state of Maine will die

With wealth flying out the door

The politicians agree, the answer, you see

We’ve found were we are lax

The kids will come back, like honey to bee

Nothing says home like a tax

So mom and dad, decisions made

They’re moving out of here

To the place they know their children paid

With work, sweat and cheer

Mom can see her children grow

The way that she had planned

They will blossom from the seeds they sow

In a freedom land

“Where have all my children gone?”

I heard a mother pray

“I think I hear that hopeful song

And I’ll follow them today”

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