She walks the streets of London . 
her hair is matted and dry
a face yellow and jaundiced
She's forgotten how to cry.
No one dares approach her
She scowls and roars like a bear
This is her defense for survival
All she can do is "swear".

Begging at street corners
trying to survive each day
no one ever talks to her
There's nothing they want to say.
She walks all day, sleeps at night
One eye open most of the time
Does this girl deserve this life?
Before she reaches her prime.
An existence going sadly unnoticed
Everyone would pass her in disgust
How could anyone live this way?
In the depths of despair, she was thrust..
Labeled without even knowing her
Assumptions made by the way she appears
Maybe the reason she lives this way
Is recognizable with floods of tears.?
No one bothers, no one cares
as she ploughs on with her life
no kind word, no self-respect
just trouble, pain, and strife
An occasional person stop to talk
muttering under her breath
too scared, to acknowledge the kindness
All she thinks of is "when will be death."
How can we allow this to happen
to a human who is plunged into fear
she must be someone's little girl
Someone who was held dear.

Vulnerable children

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William Sinclair Manson
Welcome friends. My name is William Sinclair Manson. I am 60 years young, I am Scottish but now living in a small village in England. I have been blogging for many Years but recently joined Wordpress and I love it. I have made many new dedicated friends here and hope to meet more around the World.

Please leave me a comment. It's always nice to hear from you. Dont be scared I don't bite lol, If there is anything on my site broken, please let me know. Ta very much.