Some child of 5 ,
an apple of an eye,
on the road, calling mamma's name,
tears are gone, she's been living a torn life,
and then she finds heaven,
on her way through the pink dust,
she is on a high,
she is now 18,
and belongs to every one,
where are You momma,
she calls in the nights
as she sells herself ,
the curse of hunger
1 comment:
A lovely poem
Post a Comment