Welcome Visitor: Login to the siteJoin the site


About a child in poverty, & their point of view.


Submitted:Mar 17, 2011    Reads: 38    Comments: 2    Likes: 2   


I breathe in the harsh winters cold,

as I sit apoun the ground and weep,

I'm alone and sore, from my travel's that I have tooken apoun the earth

I maybe small and young,

but my living is worth not more then a dollar to you,

I cry for my mother to hold me,

yet shes not there,

I cry for a father to teach me,

but theres no place to teach,

The summers are lonesome,

I have no friends,

I work all day to survive and gather the foods

and search hours for fresh water

My feet are bleeding, and cut with wounds

unbearable to walk without roars of pain

The tears that have fallen are enough to clean my wounds

Why Isn't anyone helping me?

Why do I half to suffer the pain, and not anyone else?

Why can't I have a mother who can hold me and sing me a lullaby

So I can finally sleep, without the harsh ground causing me pain

I cannot learn without a father to teach me

yet I learn on my own

Its hard to breathe, I'm loosing sight of all things and all creatures around me

My hearing has left but yet I still try to move

I pray to God with the rest of the strength that I have,

Please Help Me

Im a child who needs.

(donate money for poverty.)





2

| Email this story Email this Poetry | Add to reading list



Reviews

About | News | Contact | Your Account | TheNextBigWriter | Self Publishing | Advertise

© 2013 TheNextBigWriter, LLC. All Rights Reserved. Terms under which this service is provided to you. Privacy Policy.