Walking on the sidewalk,
voices buzzed by.
Then I noticed her, sitting alone,
with torn clothes and tear-laden eyes.
She wore her youth like a frayed cloak,
a young soul, innocent of this world.
She begged and begged for a penny,
yet eyes turned away, footsteps hurried by.
The voice of the voiceless is never heard,
the voice of the voiceless is never asked for,
the voice of the voiceless is never cared for,
the voice of the voiceless remains unknown.
Leaders rise day by day,
but none ease their pain.
The voice will be heard one day,
only when one among them rises!