In The Streets There’s Dirt and Danger

By m.s.wardrip

Stranded and broke in a foreign country,

With your children crying, fighting,

Busking on the street with no market here,

No tippers, no fans, only hunger and fear.

Please help me and my kids the beggar pleads,

The passers by say, “I’m just simple common me.”

I say go to where the food is and offer to help sell,

Sell some, eat some, problem solved but solution is easy.

He wants it hard to prove a point to show his survival,

He beats his chest, what a good papa man, stood up,

In the foreign market place where poor Americans starve,

Should catch fish, sell one, buy some rice, have meal with child.

Or stand like a fool, playing “Poor Little Fool”,

While you drool with no stool, hungry, defeated,

The children cry, the daddy cries out loud, Feed Us!

But one child is given an orange and she gives it to her brother.