These Sad Poems For Abused Children would make you cry. Take a deep heart and read Cries From Orphanage, Motherless Baby Home, Buyers Buy, Abused Children and Street Abuse.
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| Poems For Abused Children |
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Cries From Orphanage
©Nsikak Andrew, 24th September 2006 & 29th January, 2007
Fate! Why has thy placed a cruel blow on us?
Oh! What a wick world we live
We were to be the hope of many homes
Yet we have been labeled a curse to some.
Who are they that have done us this evil?
Our soul shall ever be in silent tears
For mother-luck has rejected us
Now, we are outcast even in our own land.
From the refuse dump, at the bush path,
At the corner of a roundabout, we are forsaken,
Abandoned by fate to die
Yet, rescued by the hands of good Samaritans
Who only sheltered us at the orphanage.
We shall ever weep
For tears shall ever be our daily food
Oh! Our soul shall ever be in silent sorrow
For fate has placed us a cruel blow
That only the wing of destiny could revive.
Motherless Baby Home
©Nsikak Andrew, 4th December, 2007 & 18th January, 2008
Let tears drop not,
Let no skin feels any pain,
But let us look at the pains we emanate.
Why do we make what we can’t keep?
O! Where is the heart that loved?
For nine months we bear the pains
Only to abandon like a waste-bin.
What shall we tell our Maker?
That His free gift to us
Have found love in a strange four walls
Were a thought of reality are the hearts
That might never found forgiveness.
But I smile for a home have erased tears
And comfort has found a new song.
We shall sing for freedom,
We shall dance for joy,
For the stone which the builders rejected,
Shall one day sat among tables,
That the Kings bouquet host.
Buyers Buy
©Nsikak Andrew, 28th January, 2008
In the eye of the dark night
They hawks
Buy bread… buy pure-water…
Buy drink… buy chin-chin…
Buy orange… buy plantain…
Buy Gala… buy…
Buy one that I would be free to go home
Buy all that I would eat my night food
Buy! Buy!! Buy!!! that my madam would smile.
Abused Children
©Nsikak Andrew, 28th & 29th January, 2008
Slaves in the hand of their Dr-Do-Good
They have made them the masters
Slaves in the hand of their Dr-Do-Good
Their bodies have been decorated with ranks.
Who have done them these?
Wicked pretenders
Mortals who lack conscience
Same who have taken advantage of their helplessness.
Salves in the palm of their heavy hands
Their faces, they have made to see the stars
Salves in the palm of their heavy hand
Their bodies, they decorate with their fingers.
Who have done them these?
Wicked pretenders,
Mortals who lack conscience
Same who have taken advantage of their innocents.
Salves in the foot of their legs
Their bodies, they turned into a football field
Salves in the foot of their legs
Their bodies, they matched like the mixed gravels.
Who have done them these?
Those wicked pretenders
Mortals who lack human sympathy
Same who takes advantage of their disadvantage background.
Street Abuse
©Nsikak Andrew, 29th January, 2008
The innocence of her face
Wrapped in the basin of oranges she hawk
Buy orange, buy orange she shouted.
Days have gone by
Yet her basin of container was full
Buy orange, buy orange she shouted.
The hot sun seems to bath her with sweat
As her cloth ooze with fragrance of her body-odour
Buy orange, buy orange she shouted.
She walks across many streets
A further journey to the major road she also made
Buy orange, buy orange she shouted.
Her voice have become weaker
A pity cry from her constant announcement
Buy orange, buy orange she continued.
Night was at hand
Yet her basin of sweet oranges were full
Who will buy my oranges her heart cried?
Orange!
A deep voice came from around a building
There, her heart relieved in smiles.
By the end,
She was carrying an empty basin
With smiles mixed in regret.
How her innocence have been bought
In exchange for her sweet oranges
With a little token to cover her shame.
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