English ‘B’ Poems Short Stories Essay Sample free essay sample

Street kidsYou can hear their calls at dark.You hear them. and set them out of heads sight.Don’t want to confront it.No you can’t encompass it.That when you go past that route where you last saw her.She will no longer be at that place that street miss. that pauper.But what can we make?It’s non my concern so â€Å"shoo! †Why should we care? Their lone street kids that are worse for wear.But deep down it should ache you.Can’t you feel that feeling merely that small spot bluish?For the alone kid who curl up cold at dark.Who lives and panic. fright and fear.Yet others will merely non see the supplication in their eyes.And disregard their groans and despairing calls.Though they push through.With hungriness and bosom with nil else to make.Searching for nutrient when the dark comes to a closing. We will write a custom essay sample on English ‘B’ Poems Short Stories Essay Sample or any similar topic specifically for you Do Not WasteYour Time HIRE WRITER Only 13.90 / page Searching in the forenoon for garbages of nutrient left overCaring for their relations if they have any.Begging and imploring for trim alteration or a penny.Yes they one time had a life and a household.Yet expression at them now and what they’ve come to be.But conditions you believe it or non.They still have feelings while their felicity will decompose.They have to avoid the constabulary. as they are non good.And don’t give support like you’d expect they would.But each kid has their memories. There old life their narrative. Merely their love to airss as their pride and glorification.Barely any nutrient at all. merely crumbs so non a batch.And their names and individuality. long forgot.So if you hear something when it’s dark. don’t bend on that visible radiation.Because you already know that’s the street children’s calls repeating through the dark. Jem Solley Street kidsPoem By: Moonchild275PoetrySubmitted: Dec 10. 2008 Reads: 1093 Remarks: 0 Likes: 0Children line the streetsNo older than five or sixWhilst their parents lie under the treesWaiting for their following holeThese childs beg for money50c or a R1 coinTheir male parents don’t attention that mendicantsCome from their very loinDo they desire nutrient?Oh how society has triedGive them bread and butterBut the kids. they liedThey merely want hard currencyTo purchase coffin nails and liquorWith the illustration setWhat more do they hold to free Infinitely their yearssCan be spent under a treeStumbling and bombinatingIn their heads. they are freeAnd we. yes you and IMake nil but bitch and groanGet them off our streetsPerson direct them placeYet. where is their place?Where do they pass the dark? On street corners and back streetsFor warmth they have to contendWill we sit back any longer?Let the streets turn staleFor every twenty-four hours there is another street kidHis really psyche for saleWhat is the reply?Does anybody cognize?If you do. come forwardLet us the right seeds sow Return our metropolis to its beautyThat it long ago had beenFor I myself have witnessedMore street kids than I would hold liked to hold seenStand together to contendFor two is better than oneLet us contend this condemnable conflictThat the street kids therefore far have won Adolescent Pregnancy PoemA adolescent miss. writes about the injury of being pregnant while still in school. The full gestation she is haunted by the idea that she is excessively immature to be holding a babe. At the minute of birth as she holds the babe in her weaponries. all negative ideas are forgotten.