The little girl you find under the cardboard box,
Is hungry for basic needs,
Dirty from countless days,
And shivering from the holes in her socks.
This little girl doesn’t ask for much,
But she has wants and needs.
But you wouldn’t know, would you?
Because no one ever asks the little girl on the streets.
Her daily life is a struggle,
Even at 7 years old.
Her mother, her protector,
Can’t even protect her from the cold.
She’s had various homes,
From corners to shelters.
School was her sanctuary
Until her mother stopped taking her.
Her friends are the leaves,
The stuffed animal she found in the trash.
Her imagination is her savior,
Because it’s the only thing that lasts.
This little girl is deprived,
Of stability and the basics.
She just wants a home,
And food she’s never tasted.
People walk by every day,
With looks of pity or disgust.
They forget she’s a little girl-
Like the rest of us.
They forget she has hopes and dreams,
That are as real as yours or mine.
Hers will just be harder to achieve,
But impossible is not a word she allows herself to be defined.
The odds are stacked up against this little girl,
But she has the strength of a warrior and it continues to unfurl.
She lacks the opportunities that you and I’ve been graced with,
Such as a steady education and annuals with the dentist.
Even at such a young age,
She has the ability to distinguish,
Right from wrong,
And to choose to not be diminished.
She’s experienced more in 7 years,
Than many in a lifetime.
She’s managed to retain her innocence,
As she continually prays for a sign.
She prays someone will save her,
She prays for a home.
She prays for steady meals,
She prays to not be alone.
She prays for fitted clothing,
That keep her cool during the summer and warm in the winter.
She prays for a bed,
And for stories to be read to her.
She prays for friends,
She prays for shoes.
She prays for stability,
And for shampoo.
The little girl holds on to her hope,
As tight as her dirty stuffed animal.
She knows her mother’s fate is not her own,
So she prays for a miracle.
As she gets older,
She learns to get herself around.
She is wary of strangers,
And those who push her down.
She excels in school,
Studying harder than most.
This little girl grows up,
Into a woman who can boast-
About how she was born into poverty
With torn socks and shoes.
She was on her own with nowhere to go.
But she didn’t let that define her sense of being,
Instead she worked hard and had hope,
And now she’s finally free and living.