I was the out come of a beautiful island, 
Made by nature, not by man. 
The island of mountains, sun and seas, 
All within every part of me. 
The one we used to call Mother, 
And thought it had no less value than any other. 
But all is forgotten now, 
So forgive them Mother. 
My Mother, my island bore so much pain, 
It lost more than it gained. 
Where crops were being planted by children and men, 
And women never thought of not giving a hand. 
Where sugarcane, mangoes, and honey, 
Had more value than gold and money. 
But all is forgotten now, 
So forgive them Mother. 
The one to lead, always first on line, 
Led others forward, never leaving their own behind. 
My island shed cold blood to gain its rights, 
With words and weapons they had to fight. 
But now they step over their own, 
Forgetting they live in the same home. 
'Cause all is forgotten now, 
So forgive them Mother. 
My Mother full of great souls, 
And historical stories to be told. 
The Mother of oceans, lands and trees, 
Mother of many, not just me. 
This is the Mother I call the best, 
I believe is better than all the rest. 
This is not the island of Grenada, Trinidad nor Jamaica, 
Neither is it Puerto Rico, St.vincent, nor St. Lucia. 
This is the island of my people, 
the island belonging to me, 
This is my Mother, 

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