Where are their parents?
Are they gone with the wind?
Their offspring eat fluorescent tubes,
Cut their hands, do acrobats and beg something for their daily bread.
These trample flowers sleep on the roads under the helpless sky
And in their dreams of paradise no angels exist.
But the sex abusers peep in friendly manner.
dedication to *UNICEF
nimal dunuhinga
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/street-children/
