She sits on the street corner day-to-day
With a baby perched on her back,
Her frail hands stretched out to all who pass, so they can give her cash,
Sometimes she breastfeeds her baby,
Her breasts so frail, No food for the baby,
People pass her as though she existed not,
Day in day out she is always on that street,
Dawn comes and goes she is still there
Her baby suffers the same fate as she,
I wonder who took her purity away,
What human being had the impudence to make her a mamma?
Her child seems like a big liability,
Perhaps she was even brought up the same way,
When there is a celebration, there is no one to party with her,
She only has her baby,
So many questions I ask,
Who will get her out of this predicament?
I give her a dime but I still wonder,
Tomorrow she will still be on the streets.
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