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The Poor Little Black Girl

Joe Flach Avatar Joe Flach - LIFETIME Premium Member Joe Flach - Premium MemberPremium Member Send Soup Mail Go to Poets Blog Block poet from commenting on your poetry

Below is the poem entitled The Poor Little Black Girl which was written by poet Joe Flach. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.

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The Poor Little Black Girl

She sits on a street corner with a teardrop in her eye
Wishing she were in the cars of the people driving by
Her mother left with some john about two months ago
The man with the eviction notice didn’t care she had no place else to go

She carries in her small backpack everything she owns
The coming of the winter colds is in the winds that have blown
The bed she made on a City Park bench can comfort her no more
Her absences in the public school do not entice anyone to go looking for …

… the poor little black girl that nobody cares about

She has potential deep inside of her buried beneath the hunger pains
But nobody in this busy world recognizes what there is to gain
She is doing everything she possibly can to stop from turning tricks
But the only thing her mother taught her was how to hide the bruises from her kicks

The Styrofoam cup she holds out to strangers hasn’t collected any coin
People just leave her looks of disgust as if she is at fault for being forlorn
Shadows cast by the high-rise buildings grow longer with the setting sun
As commuters begin their journeys home she stands up in front of everyone … 

… and the poor little black girl lets out a booming shout

“I don’t do this because I want to; being abandoned was not my choice;
I tried quietly to ask for help – but today I will use my voice
I turned thirteen years old today – the anniversary of another girl’s mistake
Is it too much to ask for, just once, a piece of cake?”

 “You can pretend that I don’t exist; you can pretend that you’re better than me;
You can long for that future day when I am no longer here for you to see;
You can hate me and fear me and just turn your head the other way;
But you will see me again, sitting by our Father to hear your excuses come judgment day”

Businessmen and businesswomen stopped for just a minute
They looked around at one another not sure of the message or how to spin it
Then continued towards their taxis, subways, ferries and their cars
She stood alone after the sun went down beneath the twinkling stars …

It is up to you, now, to determine how this story turns out

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  1. Date: 10/26/2012 2:04:00 AM
    Good narration of a topic too overlooked by society. Nice work Joe

  1. Date: 9/25/2012 3:05:00 PM
    sad write, too close to home

  1. Date: 9/18/2012 1:23:00 PM
    A touching story here by you Joe.Great poem.