The Little Girl

The shivering little girl

Stared at the well-dressed business man

Her chapped lips cracked from the strong breeze

That blew across her raw face

But he didn’t even glance in her direction.

 

The food scraps are carelessly tossed into the trash

As the little girl peeked through the window

Full portions worth slid right into the garbage

Her stomach growled and she longed for even just a bite

But they were finished with it

And they didn’t even think about the need

 

The mom waves as her grinning daughter boards the bus,

Equipped with the latest and best pencils, erasers, and pens.

But the little girl sits in the back of the bus with her head down,

Carrying a raggedy backpack that used to be her brother’s.

She clutches the bag a little tighter

As a tiny tear trickles down her cheek.

 

Why is there so little compassion?
Why does nobody care?

This little girl walks among us every day,

Yet we fail to recognize the need.

She is hungry while we have more food than we can eat.

She is cold while we have several jackets and a full closet.

She is begging for a dollar while we drive our new cars.

 

When there is a gap like this,

America will never be great.
This little girl isn’t free

And those of us passing her aren’t brave.

Until we free those who are struggling,

And stand up for what is right,

It is a lie to call our country

The land of the free and the home of the brave

This poem is about: 
My community
My country
Guide that inspired this poem: 

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