From the loudest noise of stomach rumblings
Producing sound like the African drums
To surviving the heat of each day
Life feels like the Sahara


Money is hard to find for someone like me
I’m nobody, no one will fight for me
The stereotypical eye has damaged my reputation
Down they look on my presentation


This mouth of mine shall get fed
Even if it equals my life end
I’ll die trying than do without
Animal like instinct, that’s what I’m about


This isn’t the future I foresaw
But my craving has deprived me of my judgement
Plus I’m found amongst the wrong company
I’m so unfit, who shall fix me


I can’t afford to go to bed empty bellied
I woke up this early
Searching for a prey
Even if I’ve got to steal, I must eat

My victim; a qualified woman
In traffic, answering a ring
Without thinking
I snatched, I ran


Out of the woods, came a great host
I suddenly became a public’s punching bag
My life flashed before me, I may not see tomorrow
Thinking of Mamma, I’ve brought her too much sorrow


Locked up
At least I was saved from the civilian army
And tonight, my belly won’t be empty
Plus I’ll see tomorrow.


One thought on “Street

  1. The world really needs to hear the good news. They have to know there are other options for them that lead to a life besides destruction.

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