Its ten-fifty-nine as i stare stare at the the catholic clock
I hear the bell ring at eleven am and it continues tick tock
If you haven't eaten its the end of breakfast look forward to lunch
Don't remain solo, move along with the bunch
Its the end of morning no more chilling
Its time to get up and get patrolling
Surviving in the ghetto is listening when the streets are calling
We all dream of a life where everything is perfect
We all wish we could walk freely without being a suspect
We all think of a master plan to get us respect
But when the streets call, we're nothing but rejects
Some of us are either orphans or born in wedlock
Some of us live with our poor and dependless folks
Some of us have parents who can't work, see or walk
But because of poverty no peoples doors we knock
We get to car parks, car ranks, buildings and shops
Everyday before sunrise say a little prayer with hope
Wishing that sunrise can bring with it a miracle so we can cope
But with hunger, stress and unrest, to stay alive we dope
Atleast that way we forget about our hunger and tears
No more worries, more acceptance and less fears
The streets is where you know who your true friends are
Its i ride, you ride i'm a superstar, we are all stars
Scratch my back, I'll scratch yours and leave not a scar
The streets is where home is, yet home is far
YOU ARE READING
A Flowering Girl
PoesíaThese are poems of a girl as she goes through various stages and processes in her teen life before she natures into a woman's. Love, hope, pain, and growth among other things are constantly present in this transition.
