October 7, 2008
By Joice Lam, North Yorj, ZZ

Maybe it’s true
Maybe it’s not
But picture a child

Standing alone

She’s cold

She’s lonely

She’s hurting

She’s hungry
She’s a little smelly

But she’s just a child
Her tiny eyes are small

They’re swollen from everything
The dirt on her fingers
The grime on her body
The greasy hair falling over her face
The tears she’s holding back
The remnants of blood from yesterday’s past

One day that little girl
Is going to grow up
If she lives through today
She might grow up broken
She might become demented and

Without trust
She might not have a heart

Because it’s broken right now

Maybe it’s true
Maybe it’s not
This could be you
Or maybe it’s just me

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