One day, as I carelessly, was skipping down the street,
hustling and bustling to an unheard, rhythmic beat,
heading for the mall, on an ordinary day,
that began as most days do, in an ordinary way.
When a sudden and light tugging came gently at my side,
from a grungy, young, street urchin who stood silently and cried,
awakening me from the haze that I'd been walking in,
as she told me of the story, of why she was so thin.
She stated, very gingerly with a sweet, soft-spoken voice,
Of the life that she leads now and how there simply was no choice,
For her and for her mom and for her baby brother too,
Now cold and all alone, with no coats and one, torn shoe.
"My Daddy was good. My Daddy was strong,
but when shot by that gun, he didn't have long.
No insurance, no Daddy, no hope, and no job.
The creditors came and our things, they did rob."
"For the mortgage, the utilities, the electric and gas.
They came out of the woodwork to harass and harass.
The bill that would finally do us all in,
was the one from that place that we buried Daddy in."
"We tried to hold on, and we tried to stay tough,
but a life on the streets can be awfully rough.
I don't ask for pity and I'm sorry to inquire,
but could you spare a couple dollars to help me get my one desire?"
"It's not for me I ask this. It's for my baby brother.
Just an infant in this cold with only Mommy for his cover.
He used to cry so loudly but he can't cry anymore.
He's weak from malnutrition. Oh please, help us, I implore."
Sadly, as I listened with my hand shoved in my purse,
I wished this girl a miracle to lift them from this curse.
I thrust some money towards her but kept it in my hand,
As I told this little girl of an idea that I had planned.
We went to tell her mother of the plan that I had made.
We found her huddled tightly, while fervently she prayed.
She was asking for an angel to come save them from this fate,
Before she grew too tired, for the hour was getting late.
She held a little form swaddled in some rags and paper.
The top of which seemed large then near the bottom came to taper.
I peered in at the baby, and held back a startled gasp,
As I saw his fingers flailing, too weak to even grasp.
I took them to my home, and gave them shelter for the night.
Then began a tiring search at the crack of dawn's first light.
I had to find some help for them, a place they could call home,
A sanctifying shelter, no longer left to roam.
It didn't happen right away. It took some time, that's true,
But the effort was well worth it. I felt this through and through.
That grungy little urchin who came to me that day,
Is no longer cold and dirty, today I watch her play.
You'll never know the impact you can make in times of strife,
And though it's often rare, you can save a person's life.
It doesn't take much effort from those of us who've got,
To reach out a friendly hand and share with those of us who've not
*Footnote: I wrote this poem as a project for The Fictional Writers and Poets Group but I thought it came out rather well and that some of you outside of the Group might like to check it out too. Much love, hugs, kisses, and very best of hopes and wishes to you ALL! -KQ a.k.a. Karaoke Queen You can join Unsolved Mysteries and post your own mysteries or
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