Down the autumnal lane you find them.
The mucky places of the country
makes their resting base.
Very lonely and hungry
With one purpose in mind;
Feed my stomach.
These are the world’s unsolved.
Not two, three, ten but very many
Day in day out there number keep hitting high
Age to age they are still there
Scattered all over the world
Wishing for a miracle to happen
And anyone who happen to pass them
With two-four legged,
Their hands are hopefully outstretched
Entreating those who saunter
With a low ‘Please help me’ voice tone from their sotto voce.
they stoop from pit to pit,
looking for what could have been thrown out
by those who buy much to see them expire.
Who will save these street urchins?
Not even those in power,world shakers
have been able to remove them.
Are these not who end up to form gangs?
Are these not who brutalize, rape, mug?
Which one is better?
To leave them grow up in streets and attack us
Or to find them homes?
It is time we all take responsibilities
Prevent all that leads to there increase.
For without them insecurity will be of the past
Without them our sisters will not be afraid of night walk.
You see them and ignore them
You pass them and think it normal
You meet them but run away
That them form part of the world
Them must be there;
And when they come for you
You cry them are bad!