Cry of An Orphan
Two years ago I lost what I loved most,
They have been with me all my life.
One fateful day an accident robbed,
Parents who treated me like a queen.
Life today is living for the moment,
Never to know what my future holds.
All the lights have been put off,
Put of never to light up my life again.
I am an orphan roaming in the street,
Orphaned at my tender age of four.
The dark of the streets is my companion,
While rains pours and sweeps my hood,
Sweeping it away while I am sleeping.
My family, my aunt and my uncles,
Sold me away to become a slave,
That’s how the streets became my home.
The bench now becomes my sweet bed,
Every morning waking up to face the day,
A day of agony and cries never to be heard,
With the waste food being my only hope.
The world looks on and shoves me away,
Walking a distance not to come close.
My torn clothes and my worn-out shoes,
Are the only possessions that I have.
In the streets my big brothers and sisters
Are haunted by men and women without morals.
One day while seated on a corner of the road,
I saw a big belly man approach my friends,
His intention not to give a helping hand,
But to offer their bodies to earn him money.
It is the cruel world we face every day,
Wishing the world will listen at us
Instead of condemning and persecuting.
Copyright © Bernard Wachira | Year Posted 2013
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