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Strange Child (Poetry by GalaxyRat)

Updated on July 3, 2017
GalaxyRat profile image

GalaxyRat is fond of rats and writing. And dark poetry. She knows that people don't like all these things together... but who cares?

Strange child in the crowd,

Feet dirty and calloused rough,

Strange child in the crowd,

You can tell surviving is tough.

Young child in the room,

I saw her just yesterday, living the good life,

Her hair shiny and silky, but my mind is only on the strange child,

the one in the constant fight.

Hungry child in the market,

Wondering if he could have a piece of bread,

From the young woman

With a basket on her head.

Happy child in the park,

Swinging to and fro,

Amongst the bark,

Not thinking of those less fortunate.

Crying child in the crowd,

Head down and feet sore, tired from the never-ending fight,

No one is there,

When he begins to die.

© 2017 GalaxyRat


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    • GalaxyRat profile image

      GalaxyRat 6 weeks ago from The Crazy Rat Lady's House

      I know, Flourish. There will always be the one that will be forgotten.

    • GalaxyRat profile image

      GalaxyRat 6 weeks ago from The Crazy Rat Lady's House

      Thank you for your thoughts, Tamara!

    • Tamara Moore profile image

      Tamara Yancosky 6 weeks ago from No Idea Where

      I also think about the "strange child" frequently, and your words describe my thoughts very well. Sometimes, I think that I think too much. But, I don't want to forget about the "strange child" lest he/she die alone.

    • FlourishAnyway profile image

      FlourishAnyway 6 weeks ago from USA

      There are so many forgotten children. Sad.