Sorrow is my name
Poverty is also my name
So is pain and loneliness
Who really am l ???
How did l get here? Who put me into this world?
Do l have parents, relatives or background
Am l even human without an identity
Who really am l ?
I roam around the streets day and night
Bare footed sometimes with torn stockings stitched together
And heavily oiled legs
Hoping to find myself
Who am I??
Eating food from the trash
Was and is always my daily meal
I get arms from people daily
All of them calling me with the same words
ILLITERATE SON OF THE STREETS
Yet I don't know what they are saying
My question still stand
Who am I ??
The street kid is all l hear
Now I guess lm the one born to suffer
Born to be in pain
The unwanted one
Born and mothered by the streets
As long as I remember it's always been the streets and l
This is real, this is me
So here l am the illiterate son of the streets
I'm the **STREET KID
Let's work together and make this world a better place for all of us. Many r suffering with nothing to eat who r we to pretend not to hear their cries