poet ANDREW BLAKEMORE

ANDREW BLAKEMORE

A Child Upon The Doorstep Weeps

A child upon the doorstep weeps
ignored from passers-by,
She wipes away her lonely tears
Upon her woollen sleeve,
Locked out to play alone within
That bleak and terraced street,
Where pavements act as gardens
And throughout the city weave.

They lie beside each narrow road
Where litter grows like flowers,
The stench so hard to bear within
Those red-bricked valley walls,
The only green, the moss that lies
Between the kerbs of stone,
She cries out for her mother
But on deafened ears it falls.

Her head is bowed unto the ground
And to those dreary slabs,
On which she's stared so often
That she knows each groove and crack,
Her teardrops stain the pathway
And her worn out buckled shoes,
Which many times have run away
But always led her back.


A child upon the doorstep weeps
Neglected and abused,
Her socks once white as grey now
As the winter skies above,
She wears to hide the bruises
That she wished she could forget,
But she's never known no other life
And never tasted love.

Topic(s) of this poem: child abuse

Poem Submitted: Thursday, May 21, 2009
Poem Edited: Saturday, July 25, 2020

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Comments about A Child Upon The Doorstep Weeps by ANDREW BLAKEMORE

  • Andrew Scott Blakemore (11/29/2017 8:48:00 PM)

    Not bad for a beginner

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  • Dr Tony BrahminDr Tony Brahmin (7/13/2017 3:49:00 PM)

    A child, ignored from passers-by, lonely tears
    play alone within, With litter as the flowers,
    She cries out for her mother
    But on deafened ears it falls. Neglected and abused,
    And never tasted love.
    These are the points which i collected from your poem after reading it carefully..
    Sadness, i felt like weeping with the child. childhood should be filled with wonderful and sweet memories…. But…..your poem indicates the struggles and pains of so many dear ones here on the earth. Thank you dear poet. tony

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  • Abdulrazak AralimattiAbdulrazak Aralimatti (10/6/2015 7:55:00 AM)

    Verily, a heart touching poem,
    There are so many who grow up on
    roadside without anyone's love,
    only God is their guardian.....10

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  • Noreen CardenNoreen Carden (10/29/2013 7:01:00 PM)

    Hello Andrew this is a very moving poem beautifully written well done

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  • Ramesh RaiRamesh Rai (7/6/2013 6:19:00 AM)

    well pitiful depiction of a weeping child reflects your inner core of heart and its softness.thank you for sharing

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  • C.R. ClarkC.R. Clark (6/30/2010 9:56:00 PM)

    This is a truly moving poem, Andrew. Very well written, as always. I believe that child abuse and child neglect are among the saddest of conditions on earth to witness and you have captured that feeling in this work. A great write indeed, my friend.
    Richard

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  • Bonnie Collins (1/28/2010 10:08:00 AM)

    Andrew, I have read this before, and commented as well, but I feel so strongly in regurds to your vivid imagery that has become a world wide epodemic, that I feel it is worth my while to comment once again, you have managed to bring this to core of the heart of the reader filled with so many colours of sadness and pity, this is trully one of your better writes, my friend...... You are one special writter indeed..... Excelent! ! ! PLUS......

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  • Cynthia Buhain-baelloCynthia Buhain-baello (1/27/2010 4:11:00 PM)

    Very strong and cutting poem, with intensity of message and emotions conveyed.
    Remarkable.10++++++++++

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  • Chris G. VaillancourtChris G. Vaillancourt (10/15/2009 4:15:00 AM)

    I liked the imagery with this.

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  • Ruth Walters (8/8/2009 4:00:00 PM)

    Another good poem that so well describes this child's plight.......

    Ruth

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  • Bob Blackwell (8/7/2009 1:25:00 AM)

    You have described so well a childs life, but it is also a reflection of life today, for many thousands of people as well. It is ironical, because those terraced houses you describe where built in the industrial revolution to bring bring poor people from the countryside to work in towns and cities, so they can work in mines and factories. Today they are the deprived areas of the UK and the rich people commute from the countryside to work. Brilliant poem Andrew.

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  • Mehta Hasmukh AmathalalMehta Hasmukh Amathalal (7/28/2009 6:29:00 AM)

    They grow beside each narrow road
    With litter as the flowers,
    That yields a harsh and pungent stench
    Through red-bricked valley walls,
    a hell of life for street children where we can't dream of anything other than insults and denials of all the facilities including blot on humanity.....10

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  • Ben Gieske (7/18/2009 7:42:00 AM)

    You paint a vivid picture and send a powerful message. I admire your use of contrast to bring across more penetrating images. Well done.

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  • Indira RenganathanIndira Renganathan (6/11/2009 11:05:00 PM)

    The whole of heart and soul is weeping....child abuse is strongly condemned and punished though it continues to happen...your words give the reader immense sorrow...

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  • Sandra Fowler (6/3/2009 9:42:00 PM)

    An elegy for a winter child painted in gray and white. Beautifully composed.
    Your title is especially poignant. God is counting those tears.

    Warmest regards,

    Sandra

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  • Karin Anderson (sorry can't vote or comment) . (5/28/2009 7:24:00 AM)

    Sorrowful poems about animals and children always tug at my heartstrings. You have a way of creating images that vividly show the child as being neglected and crying out for love. Progress hasn't stopped this happening. Masterfully written Andrew. 10 Karin Anderson

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  • Bonnie Collins (5/27/2009 8:12:00 PM)

    A very sad, but necessary write unfortunatly... AND you can apply this to any given street in any given town in any given state/country... Your imagery is so vivid, that you can see such a pittifull visual..... Very intence write, and enjoyed it as always, my friend....

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  • Ernestine NorthoverErnestine Northover (5/25/2009 11:21:00 AM)

    This one really pulls at the heart strings Andrew. Sad to say that this even happens today, and in this country. Very well expressed indeed. Great imagery.
    Love and hugs Ernestine XXX

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  • Alison Cassidy (5/24/2009 3:31:00 AM)

    There is something quite Dickensian about your description Andrew. The portrait you paint so sensitively is keenly observed and beautifully crafted. This writer is moved to pick up the wee mite and take her home. Such a sad little poem. Love, Allie ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

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  • C. P. SharmaC. P. Sharma (5/23/2009 3:31:00 AM)

    A child upon the doorstep weeps
    But none who can her tears sweep! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
    CP

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