She carried the whole world slung on her back
Some threadbare clothes in a rotten old sack.
Heavy lines etched on her weary face,
For her lot in life she had lost the race.
She once had a home with a respectable mother,
Now hard life on the street, she knows of no other.
Her misfortune now plain for all people to see,
A good outcome all lost and never to be.
She spends all her days alone on the streets,
Not a friend in the world only beggars she meets.
How will it all end, does anyone care?
Will anyone help, will someone be there?
If it was your daughter what would you do?
For solutions to her life are all but too few.
Pathetic condition for a person. But I believe God is always interested in us and can change our situation if we invite him. This world is not a home.
A sad well worded poem. We forget to be grateful for our family and what we have.
So sympathizing it was, just I'm touched. Lovely detailing. But sometimes I feel that there is no explanation to misfortune.
Nice poem. Is it a common scene in England, seeing children on the streets, going away from the parents?
A good poet is the one who could feel for others and put it in words. I love it. I invite you to read my poems sometimes. Thanks Mohabeer Beeharry
A fantastic poem, sadly it's the world we live in. All the councils in England are too worried about rock concerts and bike races to be have time to worry about people who live in their town or city.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Interesting poem. Read mine - We the Unencumbered - Adeline