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