Street Children

Dollar signs shout out from a car,
If only I could be so rich!
Living here and there,
not a proper home.

Men in suites and power drive through the city,
they don't acknowledge me.
I sleep with my rags and my secret cash,
for I don't want the other boys to start a fight.

My corner on the street is a memorable one,
an old lady once gave me a coin.
She knew is wasn't one of them,
the ones that sniffs powder all day.

The gangs of the night scare me so much,
I hear a car alarm go off in fright.
The leader and his thugs often look at me,
Bashful I am; they have an aura about them.

Perhaps when I'm older I'll get a job,
Maybe even to take of that mob.
Sometimes I wish those ladies would come,
the ones who would take the young ones away.
I wish they would stop and say,
'I'll take you darling.'

My last few years have been a mess,
Perhaps maybe you can guess?
These walls have kept me in,
I wish I could run away.
But where could I stay?

I wish I had a family,
Someone to cuddle me.
I never knew my real parents,
and that is why I'm here.

Perhaps life will change sometime,
That is why I don't commit crime.
I hope you like this poem rhyme,
because it took me quite some time.

by Luke Waltham

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