Was It My Choice To Be In The Streets Poem by ambitious blessing

Life was so miserable
Grew up in the streets with no traces of my parents
Sleeping on street pavements and in tunnels was never my option
Who said I never wanted to feel the comfort of the bed
And you think card boxes are better than blankets
I loved to watch the television with my parents
But the street lights is what I now watch as if it is entertainment
Question yourself again was it my choice


What makes you think I love the streets
People talk as if I love the streets
But they dumped me in the streets
And thought that it could be a better habitat for me
My value they did not measure
So many are wandering around
To get a precious blessing like me
If you knew my value i could not have been in the streets


Surviving the harsh winter weather was never easy
Being intimate to poverty all year round
Begging for food and money I condemned but how would I have survived
You shut my hopes of ever being called with my real name
Just a glance at me they see an awful person

The streets tarnished my image
My parents are villains
They sold me to the streets
My existence on earth is a fountain of miseries
I blame my parents for they did not sympathize with me
They were the first to call me street kid when they dumped me
People labeling me all sorts of names
Condemn me not for I did not opt to be in the streets
Find my parents and I will gladly walk out of the streets
Verbally I am abused
I am glued and I bonded with the streets more than my mother
The streets natured me when my mother dumped me
The street is just as good as hell