Tattered clothes,
worn-out shoes,
Poverty stricken body,
They go by wobbling on the street,
Like stray dogs searching for food.
They have no home to go back to.
They have no family to love.
Love is nothing but a stranger,
survival is what they know.
They never knew love,
not that of a parent,
Or that of a friend.
They grew up believing
the world is nothing but cruel and cold,
So they became just that.
Dream is a privilege
they can't afford to have.
Their hope has been
long dead and buried.
Their futures been crushed
right from the start.
To the society...