Alone on streets,she cannot remember the last timeshe smiled,the last time she felt warm enough,tucked into bed and given a sweet goodnite kiss. Tssiii............tsiii.....the wind blowing, freezing her little body under that treethe cold nights seem longer than a year.Bees passing by, as they search their way for nectarthey are her alarm clockwaking her up each morning. A day in her life is like a thorn, pierced on her bodytoo familiar that she can no longer feel the pain.Picking leftovers for food, crying every moment, drinking the dirty pond wateris what she calls her life, her lonely life. In the night she is dreaming, living in a home with a mother who cares,making mad pies with friends, and running to the Christmas tree to open upChristmas gifts.On the sound of the bees,she realises it was just a dream,nothing has changed; the wet sand is still her bed. The Journey, the long journey I am taking.When will it be complete?Obstacles everywhere, But then right before the corner,I can see the Light,Shining and sparkling It is the light of Hope.Aww... that’s the destination.I take wider steps. When I reach there, she will have got a home, and she will not be alone anymore.But until then, you will just have to wait, “Just wait a little Longer.” Dedicated to all homeless Street Children Ends
