There was a poor little girl, they played with her like a puppet too,
I've seen her crawl lifelessly in the streets but what can I do.
I pity her as to I pity myself but she's wosrt than me,
They way she looks isn't aplusing and leaves me a bit unhappy.
Poor little girl, so poor, so weak, so worthless it's hurts her to live this way,
But I see the strength in her as she survives each and every day.
In that dirty white dress and her unclean body weak and small,
She was always on the ground, guess she had, a hard fall.
No parents, no siblings, no one to take care of her, she's all alone.
And these streets is all she has ever known.
She creeps on all fours stopping to look at the fancy people in the stores and move on,
It hurts me to see that they look at her in disgust and scron.
Poor little girl, no home to call your own no one to help you,
I can't survive the things you're going through.
Poor little girl there is no reason that you should cry,
God now holds your hand but I never got to tell you goodbye.
Vote, Comment and Share.
Thanks my lovely readers ❤😍.
-KENZO
YOU ARE READING
Soulful Whispers
PoetryA small town boy from the Caribbean sharing what's in his expressive mind and broken heart ❤Highest rank #1 in Poetry for 3 weeks❤
