I am one of many children who waits
on a deserted street corner, close to where you live.
There is a hunger that never abates
wanting food, warmth anything else you could give.
I am one of many mothers who cries
my children are ill and cold snow now lies on the ground.
I endlessly ponder the how and the whys
of how cruel life is and simple charity is nowhere to be found.
I am one of the children of wrath
no one seems to really care whether I live or die.
I am a product of society's aftermath
another creation of this cruel world's greatest lie.
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