The Child Poem by DARK SIDE

WHO CRIES FOR THE LITTLE CHILD?
WHO NEVER ASKED TO BE BORN
NOW LIVES ON THE STREET
WITH HIS DREAMS TORN
HOLDING HIS BLANKET TIGHT
TALKING HIMSELF TO SLEEP AT NIGHT
WHILE HE SHIVERS IN THE PARK
STILL CRYING IN THE DARK
HOPING HIS PARENTS WOULD COME
BUT LITTLE DOES HE KNOW
THERE NOT GONNA SHOW
CAUSE THEY SOLD HIM TO THE STREET
WHERE ALL THE STRANGERS COME TO MEET
BRINGING HIM BACK WHEN THERE DONE
NOW HE WALKS THE STREETS
FOR FOOD AND MONEY
HIS HANDS ARE HOLDING A COFFEE CAN
WITH A TAPED UP PHOTO OF HIS PARENTS
SHOWING ANYONE WHO MIGHT ABOUT
BUT NO ONE WANTS TO HELP HIM FIND OUT,
NOW HIS CLOTHES ARE RIPPED
AND HE'S WILLING TO DO ANYTHING
WITH ANY STRANGER
ASKING FOR SOME HONEY
THE ONLY QUICK WAY FOR HIM
TO MAKE SOME MONEY,
AS HE CLOSES HIS EYES
AND DOES IT FAST
SO QUICKLY THE MOMENT WILL PASS,
NOW THE CHILD GOES BACK
CRYING ON HIS BLANKET
HE HOLDS TIGHT HIS ONLY SECURITY
HE HAS TO GET THROUGH
ANOTHER NIGHT, UNTIL THE MORNING COMES
THAN HE START'S TO WALK AROUND
DOING AGAIN WHAT IT TAKES TO SURIVE
AND ASKING GOD WHY AM I STILL ALIVE,
NOW HOPING HIS PARENTS WILL SHOW BUT STILL THE CHILD
KNOWS HIS HOME IS STILL THE STREET WHERE HE SAYS HIS
PRAYERS ALONE BUT NO ONE HEARS ONLY HIS SHADOW
CAUSE YOU KNOW NO ONES ELSE CARES, SO AGAIN I ASK
WHO WILL CRY FOR THIS LITTLE CHILD?