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No Place For An Angel
The cold wind claws at innocent skin
The tummy aches for food so thin
Cradled at her mother’s breast
Her young life is her greatest test
Dressed for summer in winter’s height
Dressed in rags, so cold all night
No home to rest all snug and warm
To ignore their plight is our poor form
Their faces plead a cry for help
We only care for our own self
The homeless pass like ships at night
A sight unseen by our careless sight
They eat worse than we give our pets
Meals from a bin as good as it gets
Our waste it is our badge of shame
We see no wrong, we’re not to blame
Her young life passes from our world
Her mother mourns her little girl
No value placed upon their lives
When in our view, we closed our eyes
This work is copyright. Apart from any use permitted under the Copyright Act 1968, no part may be reproduced by any process, nor may any other exclusive right be exercised, without the permission of Neville John Gourley,2 Sarah Court, Capalaba, Queensland 4157, dated 13-05-2013.
A sombre poem indeed. You
A sombre poem indeed. You have a very direct form of writing and I like your rhyming in this poem. However, it is the message that is so important, even reducing our waste seems not to help the homeless and the suffering. I think corruption on a political level, in many of these countries with so many homeless, is to blame not only for a populaces poverty but corruption of charity aid also. I wonder how best to tackle this corruption, to make way for better.
http://www.postpoems.org/authours/a.griffiths57