Born on the streets in the rain

In the rain on the streets, she would die

With no one to mourn and shed sad tears

No one to pity and sigh

Born on the unlucky day she was

Was seven when she died, of age

Her unhappy life of sorrow and pain

Passed slowly stage by stage

The autumn leaves were floating slowly down

Dead, miserable and dirty brown

To the passers-by

on the street

They were a delightful treat’s

It’s autumn time a lovely sight

A season filled with love and delight

And the little girl seated on the old tree stump

Tried to smile through unhappy tears

Her’s was the life of the old brown leaves

A figure so frail with a burden to bear.

She got down from her perch and sighed

Picked up a leaf and looked into it;

It reflected her life from her birth till she died.

But who cared when people were so gay?

She shut off the gloomy thoughts

The dark side of the moon,

And on the grass, she lay

Wondering about her future

What all was in store for her

How many would such more autumns pass?

In sorrow and in despair.

At last, she sighed and decided

That she really was not to care.

So what if her dress was torn

Her coarse brown feet bare?

Embedded in the little-burnt face

A pair of large coal black eyes scared and bold

Looked untidy but from inside

Carried a heart of gold

Soon the fiery autumn

Gave away to icy winter

Winds blowing her thin frail hair

Hands and feet all brown and bare

Frost and ice all battled with her

Her moans they loved to mock

Winter passed with the girl shivering

Under her tom, cotton frock.

Then came spring

And started to bring

Hope to her lone lost soul

Slowly and sadly same as ever

The months started to roll

The hot dry summer arrived

The warmth of the sun revived

Pretty few survived

This horrid season of heat

Our little lady decided

That God wished her to live.

But alas! She was wrong

She hunted from place to place

Looking desperately for work

But the cold cruel doors of bungalows

Remained as ever closed

People shut them on her face

As from door to door, she raced

Knowing she would soon starve away to death.

She somehow survived the summer

Then came monsoon bringing rain

And inevitably with it raging pain

The end of the girl was near

But who wiped her tears?

Then came that fateful night

That cold wet frightening night

The wind gave a terrible moan

The cars at a distance droned

The leaves swished the lightning flashed

The thunder rumbled and roared

And the little girl stood alone.

Alone, watching the cars creep

Alone, when the world was asleep

Alone, alone, and ready to weep

The clouds wept, the cars swept

The silver moonlight the clouds kept

The girl stared longingly

At the lass in a mackintosh

The pretty girl in the mackintosh

Stepping daintily over slush

The little girl in tattered clothes

The little girl who never had a wash

The pretty girl in a mackintosh

Hair in curls, head high in pride

A servant with an umbrella at her side.

Slashing the slush with dainty strides.

As she passed the little girl who tried

Her tom shirt desperately to hide

 

“Young miss! Please do abide!

I have house not parents o

Only this Dress full of rents

I have shoes nor books

Nor your pretty looks!

But I plead with you,

Lend me an ear

And no one to me

Shall ever be so dear

I’m poor and miserable, do help me

I do not beg; give me a job

Flog me, scold me, whip me big and small

Feed me with stale black bread

Or give me none at all.

But do not leave me in the killing cold

This pouring rain! “The girl told

Click, opened the Royce door

Click! It closed

In a tick!

“Oh! Oh dear miss-listen to me!

Don’t, do not leave me here, oh miss!

Oh, you cursed, wicked, rich folk!

Oh you cruel murderers

You killers of innocent poor folk!

Oh, do you have a heart of rock?

Does it not melt in our pitiful state?

But my curse will decide your fate

You will die as cruel a death as well

As I die today

Tortured with agony and misery

You will all suffer in hell

May you all be punished!”

The girl screamed and fell down

Her eyes closed, she shivered

And lay back in eternal place.

The rain ceased to a drizzle.

Drops of rain fell onto her matted hair

Drops of rain covered her stone-still body.

She slept peacefully,

Peacefully never to wake

Leaving the world of hate

The girl lay there alone

Alone while the world slept

Alone, the little girl slept

Born on the streets in the rain,

In the rain on the street, she was dead

Pretty and frail and peaceful

The muddy wet road her bead.

Share If You Care!

Responses