Your belongings are meager
As you wander loveless streets,
And the sidewalks kill your soul
When you have no place to sleep.
For a young child,
Life should be visionary dreams,
Not drug dens of demise
Where everyman has a predator’s eyes.
Life unravels for everyone in time,
But there should be happiness and joy
Intermingled in-between birth
And the onset of the inevitable obscene,
But some people get cast aside
The moment they leave their mother’s breast.