Looking around the world was like looking at a wound . So terrifing alot of pain , so awful that i could not look at it the second time.As a homeless child ,it was a disaster of life. You see eveyone as an enemy, you try to steal but your hands are caught, i got no option but dance with its tune. Many come and go but i remain the same ,no one dare wants to know about me because i stink sorrow , and remain the street homelees kid , i ask my self if people find themselves in the street or how do they end in there. will i! one day come to have a life i always dream of, will somebody someday see my cry and say its over lets go home child . Will i be pampered like i see others? Is this  fantsy or a reality. Eating the garbages for yeras has  become a mystery of life, that i can hardly remember how i ended being part of such life. A dream of a street child is just like a dream with no meaning remains like a stream of flowing water or a dream like when you eat something  then lastly the sweetnesss is gone and thats life for me out there!!Will somebody feel my pain and  rise so that one day i will  be somebody ,feel my pain and rise so that one day i will come and walk on these very street and spent some quality time saying i know how it feels to be nobody's business. Would  somebody make me useful like any other human for the sake of humanity being preached everywhere see someon's cry and help. What in the name of loving should someone be igonored, yet everyone can witness it , the pain in my eyes ,the calling in my face. I need someone to make me a human enough to fit in the society why me !! Can someone do something please. 

Guide that inspired this poem: 


Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741