My Suffering – By Israa Albanna, Year 9

My suffering …
the sun is hiding, people are going their way

A small kid walking in the dark

the cold is freezing  ..  grief is on the way

He has no Shelter, he is a refugee
He has a little dream of some warmth
Lost in the streets, bitter tasted hunger kills the poor child
Loud thunder cutting through rain drops
Lightening strikes in the eyes
Between the ways he stands up
Preferring death to disgrace and humiliation
He only fears being hurt by the indifference of a stone-hearted society


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