Young Precious Child Poem by Carly Almonde

So many questions run through people's minds,
But nobody takes the time,
To figure out the answers,
as to how, and why.
Can't they see what they are doing?
Depriving the world of understanding?
A child can stand on a city street,
wearing rags and smelling of filth.
Of course a person will think,
'What a shame, I wonder how they've gotten there.'
But what will they do?
The answer is nothing; they figure someone else will take care of it.
But what if that someone else doesn't?
Who then will take care of that young precious child?
What has happened in the world to make people think that its alright,
to leave a child sitting alone at night,
full of fright,
inside of a cardboard box, covered in newspapers as a blanket?
A dear, precious child,
just like their own,
a curious, sweet tempered, beautiful child.
Circumstances have left this child alone,
and by doing nothing,
this child is prone.
to diseases and exposed to a world full of discrimination.
If it were you own,
would you feed it from the dumpster,
would you cast it away like an old rug,
saying that someone else should take care of it?
That idea is wrong,
and something should be done,
to protect this young precious child,
and all like him or her,
from a life of horrors.
So people open your doors,
and let the children in.
And you will see,
in the end,
that having saved a child,
can make your life,
pretty grand.