Echos of the forgotten children
dance along the
breeze.
With tired eyes and weary smiles
as they
sleep along the streets.
No kind words or helping hands
from the strangers
passing by,
just echos of forgotten children
an
endless
hopeless cry.
Nowhere to turn, no place to run.
Just lonely
damaged souls.
They try to hide or numb the pain
of being left out
in the cold.
Years its been,
since they felt warmth;
most do not remember love.
So the echos of forgotten children
are quietly swept,
under
the rug.
Their tears trace familiar paths
across their
*****
cheeks.
The echos of forgotten ones
that sleep along
the streets.
Its cold its dark,
they are alone.
They fear the end
is soon.
So they numb their pain
in any way
even if it brings their
doom.
The echos of forgotten children
forced to grow up
much to fast,
dance their way
through lonely streets.
Reminders of
their
tragic
past.
