Going Home
She sits in a corner and hugs her knees, there is no shelter from the winter breeze,
The rags she wears are all threadbare,her skin is dirty but no one cares,
Busy people rushing by, home to houses warm and dry,no one sees the little cry,
She huddles down and tries not to sleep, for there she knows bad dreams will creep,
But tonight she has a different dream, she sees a light so bright and clean,
She hears a voice she use to know, it calls her name, she’s afraid to go,
She sees a lady smiling in the light, and marvels at the wondrous sight,
The lady beckons her to come,no longer afraid she starts to run,
When morning breaks the sun is high, people again go marching by,
They see a child lay in a heap, they don’t know she’s not asleep.
t..x
Nice poem albeit a little sad Leanne
Tanya, i have a very old poem, so much like this one, its called ” Billys Rose ” real tear jerker. far to long to put on a blog………….my mum used to read it to us when we were small………..now i come to think of it why would she read us sad poems…….ermmmm will have to think about that one………lol.x
this is sadl…..makes you think…..the most horrific thing I ever saw in a newspaper was a picture of a baby…..dead in the gutter…..in China…..and people were just walking past…..I will never forget that image…..and ….even if I was paid to go…..never go to China….although it may happen elsewhere too…
xxxxxx M
Poor little match girl,my Mom read that one tome as a child and it haunted me for years , such sad stories.xx.
thanks all I like to write, I wrote that about 12 years ago.