Email Poem

Your IP Address: 216.73.216.98

From Email:	Required Email Address Not Valid.
To Email:	Email Address Not Valid. Required
Subject	Required
Personal Note:
Poem Title:
Poem	Because I was a woman lone And had of friends so few, I made two little ones my own, Whose parents no one knew; Unwanted foundlings of the night, Left at the convent door, Whose tiny hands in piteous plight Seemed to implore. By Deed to them I gave my name, And never will they know That from the evil slums they came, Two waifs of want and woe; I fostered them with love and care As if they were my own: Now John, my son, is tall and fair, And dark is Joan. My boy's a member of the Bar, My girl a nurse serene; Yet when I think of what they are And what they might have been, With shuddering I glimpse a hell Of black and bitter fruit . . . Where John might be a criminal, And Joan--a prostitute.
	Type the characters you see in the picture Required