Robbed At a Tender Age

She plays with her tiny fingers, closely held on the rough walls of there small little mud thatched house, her deep brown angelic eyes gazed into mine, an innocent smile, happy, blissful unaware of the ghetto mayhem, with no shoes she walks by and says hello, , she looks at me with her innocent eyes she is all alone, with no one to hold her, care and love, orphaned at a tender age of 3, living with her 7 siblings, the world has robbed her of her childhood dreams, she bends down and ask me if she can clean my shoes for 5 shillings, with tears in my eyes, robbed at a tender age.