She walks the streets of London
her hair is matted and dry
a face yellow and jaundiced
she’s forgotten how to cry.
No one dares to approach her
She scowls and roars like a bear
This is her defence for survival
all she can do is “swear”.
Begging at street corners
trying to survive each day
no one ever talks to her
there’s nothing they want to say.
She walks all day, sleeps at night
One eye open most of the time
does this girl deserve this life?
before she reaches her prime.
An existence going sadly unnoticed
Everyone would pass her in disgust
How could anyone live this way?
in the depths of despair she was thrust..
Labelled without even knowing her
Assumptions made by the way she appears
Maybe the reason she lives this way
is recognizable with floods of tears.?
No one bothers, no one cares
as she ploughs on with her life
no kind word, no self respect
just trouble, pain, and strife
An occasional persons stops to talk
muttering under her breath
too scared, to acknowledge the kindness
all she thinks of is “when will be death.”
How can we allow this to happen
to a human who is plunged into fear
she must be someone’s little girl
someone who was held dear.