In this city’s very soul, behind its walls
There’s a hidden place, where poverty does not pass by.
A settlement, with huts made of tin,
The streets are littered, and the air is thin.
Here, order is but a dream,
Children roam the streets, with nowhere to be seen.
Their playgrounds are filled with rubbish and waste,
Their homes are cramped, with no sense of taste.
The stuffed room they call home, with everything thrown everywhere,
Is a sight to behold, a scene of despair.
Toys lie scattered, amidst piles of clothes,
While the stench of decay, through the air it flows.
How safe is that stuffed room, for your kids to play?
With sharp objects hidden, amidst the disarray.
Their fragile bodies, at risk of harm,
In a space so cluttered, with no sense of charm.
The stairs that lead to their home, littered with waste,
Is a danger waiting, a disaster in haste.
Broken bottles and debris, scattered all around,
A trip and fall, a loud crashing sound.
How healthy is that stairs, for their little feet to tread?
With filth and grime, underneath their thread.
Their tiny lungs, breathing in the dust,
Their innocence tainted, by the lack of trust.
The balcony they call theirs, a space so small,
Is a makeshift playground, with no safety at all.
A rickety railing, a crumbling ledge,
A fall from above, towards the edge.
How safe is that balcony, for them to roam and play?
With no barriers to keep them away.
Their laughter silenced, by the fear of a fall,
Their joy overshadowed, by the looming wall.
Must poverty be associated, with being dirty and unclean?
With no sense of pride, in the space they call serene.
But why must their world, be suffocated by filth?
Why must their homes, be devoid of wealth?
We have good roads, and some drainages too,
Yet the filth persists, amidst the view.
Why must we throw litter, everywhere we go?
Why must we live in filth, and not let it show?
Their parents work hard, to put food on the table,
But cleanliness is lacking, in a world unstable.
They want their kids to enjoy, a good environment too,
But the odds are against them, in a world askew.
So let us not judge, the ones in poverty’s grasp,
For their struggle is real, a never-ending task.
Let us lend a helping hand, to clean the streets,
To make their world cleaner, with no defeat.
For every child deserves, a safe and healthy space,
To grow and learn, in a world of grace.
Let us make a difference, in their lives today,
For a cleaner tomorrow, in every way.
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