My Baby Lies Under Snow

White-colored trees and frozen leaves,
where icy broken mothers grieve,
where her restless children have their grow,
my baby lies under snow.

Broken bones, blackened fingers,
icy wind's painful stingers.
Winter weaved a curtain on his eyes,
swallowed up his arms, legs, thighs.

His silenced scream no one heard.
Promised freedom he never earned.
But on the cruel winter night,
a bullet came and took his life.

Now all the generals and captains have a reason to party,
with their fancy ladies and a glass of Bacardi.
And none of them will never know,
who's baby lies under snow.