Somewhere Over Here"

I know a couple,
They have a home in a small room
At the extreme right-hand corner of a compound with adjacent rooms.
Their faces reveal a desire for a better life
A comfortable haven far away from the remoteness of poverty and hunger.
Their lips barely uttered a word
They communicated languidly with cold nods and weak gestures.

They are what you would call an unfortunate family in Africa.
Their hopes as citizens were stolen that morning when the mutilated election results were announced on air
Which was greeted with despair and disenchantment 
They know it will be another quadruple years of scorching promises and penury.

This couple have a family:
Two worn-out adults and two kids yoked with constant infant illness.
I know this couple.
They are my parents.
I am their sick child.
We might die tomorrow.
Come and save us.