The Children Still Play!

I sit here as the newspaper blows in the wind,
broken bottle rolls.
I sit back and watch life,
hear the baby cry?.
feel the tear,fall from your cheek?.
Little children playing,
running all around.
Bare feet on the road .
Sirens in the background.
The Children still play!,
to this familure sound.
The so familure chill,
to Feburarys end.
Another meal missed,
The streets ,
are where these childs lives are spent.
Feel the tear, fall from your cheek?.
See the man with the bottle,
Ash on the ground?.
Dreams long gone!
He knows not the meaning of sound.
IF YOU TRULY LISTEN,
THEN , YOU FEEL THE PAIN..
So he drinks away the sound,
in the fear of going insane!.
Feel the tear fall from your cheek?.
As you watch me,
blisters on my feet.
Cheeks sunk in!.
You too now know,not the meaning of words.
I AM AS FOREIGN TO YOU!.
AS YOU ARE TO A BIRD!!!!!!.

Too every homeless person who know the true feeling of humility.And too all the stupid people that are quick to judge and turn their head.
By Pamela Stewart December 23rd 1981