Street Kid- those dying dreams

Scratched face and wrapped in mud
At the age of eleven, I look more like sixty-year-old dud
My clothes are torn and visible stains of soaked blood
My parents died in a heavy flood
My papa did what he could for us to somehow eat
My Ma sold books on traffic singles in shivering heat
I don't remember I ever slept with my stomach fill
Papa use to say may be it's just the God's will
There is no one now I can call my own
I am insignificant and completely unknown
My body is slender, pale and thin
I got dimples when I use to grin
I see people picking their kids in cars
While I sleep under the sky and stars
I don't remember how many days it has been
Since I washed my hair, face and chin
No one talks to me, may be it's a sin
My favorite food is near trash bin
My life now is as black as a coal grid
With no future and hope just forbid
If I remember correctly may be my name was ‘Sid'
But now everyone abuses me and calls me a street kid
I sometimes wake up in night, not finding my Ma besides me in fear
Take a closer look at my face and see the track of my tear
I'm same child that come close to wash your car screen
You open your window and say words very obscene
Everyone ignores me everyday a million times
They just push me away and throw a nickel or dime
When I use to feel sad, my ma use to hug me and give me sketchpad
But why now everyone hits me so bad?
My hands are tiny and feet with no shoe
I feel lonely sometimes but whom should I go and speak to
No one talks to me papa, do you think so I have a disease?
Can I not choose a life to live like I please?
My eyes look for love not silver or gold
But I do have a dream, which I never told
Whenever I cross a bakery shop I always pray
God, I dream of eating a chocolate bar one day!
P.S Street Kids, are human too who needs love, and have very small earthly dreams- somehow help them fulfill these small dying dreams
Created & Authored by: Anup D.