The press of city traffic passes by
With hopeful eye she watches as they go
More people, should she give another try?
Perhaps another coin to her they’d throw
But none of them would even spare a glance
This ragged miss was standing in their way
‘Till someone special happened there by chance
He stood there wondering what it was he’d say
What fate had driven missy on to this?
No family there to give a helping hand?
No lips to give that fevered brow a kiss?
No arm to grasp to help this wretched stand?
If his daughter was to be in need
Would there be one to give his daughter heed?
The needle marks upon her slender arm
They told him of a desperate struggle fought
He saw her turn and view him with alarm.
Another policeman? Once again she’s caught!
Then silently he took her by the hand
She shivered as she followed him away
In jail again she’d join the vagrant band
Perhaps this time they’d let this vagrant stay
They labored onward through the busy street
And people stopped to stare as they passed by
His shiny shoes beside her dirty feet
His clean set look against her helpless sigh
The shelter nurse embraced this homeless one
The policeman left, another task well done.
“© Copyright Ian Grice 2013 All rights reserved”
“©The above photo image is the property of crisasantos.com.br/com/drug-a”