She's pushing her child the long way back home

it's warmer walking than being at home

She's passed on her details to welfare and police

better to be known than not known to police

 

She's been to the bank for warmth and for food

better to be given than not to have food

She went to the Mosque for friendship and prayer

better the friendship that comes with the prayer

 

She made calls to her mother not seen for a year

much better to call than to stay there one more year

Her keys in her hand as she gets to the door

better and safer to be through the door

 

When she left her short life in this lonely place

her last fleeting memories were far from this place

better her child alone in this land

the keys to the door slipped from her dead hand...