Listen to Me
In a world with numerous people,
Here cries a voice so tiny and gentle
Will someone dare to hear?
Will someone notice a voice so little?
In a city with brilliant, colored lights,
Here walks a child so weak and fragile
Does anyone know that tonight is winter?
Does anyone feel what my stomach aches?
In a street with busy people,
Here comes a creature with outstretched arms
Will someone care to know I’m desperate and sad?
Will someone look at me, drop at least some bread?
In a world with lots of perils,
I care not for riches and knowledge
I survive only for a cent,
A cent which nobody even cares.
In a city where everything is business,
Victory is something one must achieve
But will someone accept me as their gardener?
Then why people look as if I’ve got nothing to share?
In this life where people come and go,
Will someone listen to me, drop at least a cent?
In a world with billions of people,
Am I just a dirty fly?
My second entry to Weekly Writing Challenge: Time for Poetry, from the Daily Post. I don’t have a kid but, I have a special feeling for children, especially those who are abandoned and cold in the street corners. Sometimes it gives me a guilty feeling that when I drink a cup of coffee in a coffee shop, one child is actually craving some left overs. Oh well.