Monday, July 9, 2012

The Poor Child

The wind so cold blowing to child's face
Walking downtown carrying rugs to sell
The feet have no sleepers,seem no grace
To catch people's attention she use her bell

Shouting "rugs!..rugs!" please buy some
Until her poor voice is almost gone 
No one bought until the rain come
She ran but she tripped by someone

The rugs were on the watery ground
Until she come home brought nothing
No food to eat that night, just sleep and hear rain's sound
Waiting for help before  she was find not breathing

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