How sad to see the children of my town
play between the puddle and the trash, see
as his childhood passes between pain
and famine
How sad to see them work when
want to play, it's not fair that being
so small must comply with the
role of being dad
And not because they formed family but
because at home there is nothing to
fill the belly, they must work for
some tiny coins
See the children sweeping the streets
eating from the garbage, looking
between steel drums something that
of joy
Children of my town all dirty
on the outside, but full of dreams
inside, hopefully on a drum
of steel find a great secret.
This poem is to join the challenge "Day 963: 5 Minute Freewrite: Wednesday - Prompt: steel drum" by @mariannewest, if you want to join in the link
Note: Picture
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