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The Crying Child [poem]


Daily his life’s stories the same
As he sits and watch what life brings
Always in the world of his mind
Hoping it all shall be well

He births hope within him
For the change he builds within
He prays for a good day
To say goodbye to misery

How he will deliver his kind
He keeps planning daily
How he can stop such humiliation
He keeps figuring out

At the thought of his predicament
No shelter to lay his head
If he gets a meal once a week
He will be the most grateful of men

The sun rise and set upon him
The heat hurt his innocent skin
Seasons come seasons passed by
A pattern he learns to adapt

Every summer passing by
The fiercest of sun kissing his skin
Every winter rolling through
The harsh harmattan slapping him

In the rain and under the sun
He eats dust like cactus
Bathing in pains and agony
With tortured emotion

O ye little child on the roadside
Whom has God finger rested upon
With purest of love for His creation
To do the needful and make you a home?

Arise all ye of goodly heart
Wipe away the tears of the broken
That it might be said you
Indeed, you are truly of your Creator

Remember you are but a steward
Use what you have to better a life
Make it your responsibility to do good
With joy and gladness

That child out there is full
With potentials hidden by pains
That child needs an angel
And it’s you passing him daily



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