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David Wood

Rookie - 219 Points (07 April 1950 / London)

Alone On The Streets


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.

Submitted: Monday, March 25, 2013
Edited: Monday, March 25, 2013

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  • Bronze Star - 5,597 Points Amitava Sur (10/21/2013 10:01:00 PM)

    So sympathizing it was, just I'm touched. Lovely detailing.
    But sometimes I feel that there is no explanation to misfortune. (Report) Reply

  • Rookie Mohabeer Beeharry (7/30/2013 10:44:00 AM)

    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 (Report) Reply

  • Freshman - 1,399 Points Dave Walker (7/30/2013 3:37:00 AM)

    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. (Report) Reply

  • Freshman - 2,239 Points Patricia Grantham (7/18/2013 8:47:00 AM)

    This is an excellent write David. You described a situation of living
    in the street with good details. We are very fortunate to have roofs
    over our heads and family that cares for us. Some of them made a
    choice to live like that but the majority fell on misfortune or took a
    wrong turn. God still loves them also. A thought provoking write. (Report) Reply

  • Rookie - 150 Points Patti Masterman (7/14/2013 4:02:00 PM)

    Interesting character painting here. In the old days, it seemed children dreamed of running away
    to join the circus..now they dream of having a home with (impossible dream!) two parents.. (Report) Reply

  • Rookie Freewill Amon (5/18/2013 5:33:00 AM)

    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. (Report) Reply

  • Rookie Corrine Shoemaker (5/8/2013 2:31:00 PM)

    I took your advice on reading this poem and I must say it was amazing. My poem I Dont Know Jack really has a resemblance to your poem. (Report) Reply

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