STREET GIRL CHILD
Oftentimes you will see her
humming her emptiness
freezing hands, heart, soul
shouting her pleas
(which often go unheard)
On the harsh, compassionless street
she wanders 12-16 hours a day
while some of us neglect and shudder...
whisper words of denial of her reality
through the idleness with mad remarks...
Some of us just walk through parks
caring less of the images in our eyes
having deaf ears for the innocence...
By her, little babies cry,
with her, little young ones sigh...
searching for their fate on the street
scavenging through trash
for something, anything to eat.
Hell is real to a child, a youth, of no voice...
watching cars, selling flowers in the morn,
begging for food at noon
and when night time comes...
She find strength from inhalants;
Glue, Rugby and drugs became her Gods...
her tickets to momentarily empower
her fantasies; where she pretends to escape
and yet only in her memory.
Such a frightful and lonely picture it is
for a potential girl to grow up in,
Her dreams never come...
She screams but is rarely heard...
She hides...
She hides her fears of the dangers;
sickness after years of breathing exhaust fumes
harassment from extortionists,
often from policemen and peers.
And in the heart of the innocent
where joy is less and pain hides anguish,
she joined a group, The Gang,
a choice to a path towards darkness
where the devil stones cuts the flesh of the soul;
yet it never bleeds.
A life in a cage of endless woes
The battle of life and death
In the world of the STREET.
Pickpocketing is a little bit thrilling
Prostitution is the agony of being used
Drug use can be an escape.
In her dark devastating demise
where her home has never been a paradise
subtle tremor ripping at her core...
and there she cries
with the street children...
I am a Street Girl
Will anyone care about me?
Can I survive?
Will anyone love me?
( WUNRN
http://www.wunrn.com)