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She walks the streets night after night,
Never pleads, she never begs,
But often looks through the trash,
For a place to rest her weary legs!She's the victim of circumstance,
Derived from a broken home,
It's an excuse for many lost souls,
Left to fend for themselves, alone!Broken ribs that never healed,
From a life, she left behind,
Habit inflicted bruised arms, yearn,
For a life erased from her mind!Her back hurts from her extra load,
Oh, she's pregnant by the way,
Rape or consensual, who knows,
It's not my place to say!Resorting to a life of crime,
To ensure a future for her child,
There're no handouts here,
From that world, she is exiled!Other countries offer support,
For girls popping out a "Cash Kid,"
Never having to work in their lives,
Child benefits give an extra few quid!Still living with their parents,
Live in babysitters on-demand,
Going out and drinking their money,
Return with another bump unplanned!These girls will never know the pain,
Of suffering life on the street,
Taking for granted what they have,
Oh but it's a tale of bittersweet!It's all right when they're home,
Living life to the full, it's savage,
But when that child needs a father,
Not, with someone else's baggage!Let's get back to our girl on the street,
Did she have her baby, can't disclose,
Did she find salvation, I won't tell,
Is she still alive, nobody knows!
YOU ARE READING
A Journey Through Life!
PoetryA collection of poems from my life experiences and my imagination!