Street Child Monologue

by You Have My Word

[Photo: Ettiene Venter]

 

I don’t want your sympathy,

only your food.

I don’t want your charity,

I need your money.

I don’t want your pride,

I just want to buy glue.

 

I’ll do a dance.

I’ll dance all day (in fact)

for a morsel to fill my gut.

You’ll turn your head

as I get to my knees:

Help me!

 

Somebody? Anybody?

Please.

 

I’ll wear a sign around my neck –

why I need everything you’ve got to give.

You’re embarrassed.

As I stretch out my hand,

tears in my eyes to plead;

I’m not sad.

 

I’ve not known any better

my whole life through.

Mom and dad (who are they?)

did the same.

Don’t expect me

to be somebody new.

 

Maybe they’ll steal me

and use me for cheap.

At least I’ll have lodging –

somewhere to sleep.

If they cut me up

and leave me for dead…

 

Be thankful my hunger:

no longer on your head.

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