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Forced to stand on my feet
I make my home in urban slums
And find myself in the midst of hoodlums
With sticks and stones I’m chased away
I roam from place to place day after day
My plight, no one is willing to listen
With unwholesome tears, my eyes glisten
No home, no food, no education
Why was I a part of God’s creation?
The other children laugh me to scorn
Cos my future is like that of rotten corn
Overwhelmed by a deep sense of hopelessness
For my life is nothing but an absolute mess
Since no one’s willing to give me a dime
I am not to blame if I resort to crime
Written by: Saviour Iz Otubelu
Edited by: Kukogho Iruesiri Samson
Nice one.
……crime isnt d best….
yes
very nice poetry..
thank you