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cindy Jun 2019
cry
Everyday is the same
They call me words
Words that are not pleasing
Insults is what I get

Give me a chance
A chance to prove
Make you see
How wrong you are

It's like a prison
Chains of poverty
In the bin is where I feed
Just like a rat
We are one and the same

The cold floor of the streets
The cold embraces  me
The nights give me comfort

The streets  are my home
It's not my fault
All I ask of you
Is to give  me a chance
A street child's plee..conditions  don't last forever . Tables turn.. Have a kind heart to the misfortunate..
cindy May 2019
Close your eyes and see
An irony it may seem
Even in darkness
There is light
A hope to keep calm
Put the past behind
Make the future bright

— The End —