Inner City Children

Everyone hurries by.
No one hears
their plaintive cry.
There is no gentle hand
to brush tears from the eyes
of the inner city children.

They grow old before their time.
But there is no reason,
there is no rhyme,
they shouldn’t have
the same chances
that other children do.

You can keep you riches
inside the bank
to mould and gather dust.
But if you spend a little
the children will start to trust
that someone really cares.
Hope me be born in the hearts
of the inner city children.

Reach out a helping hand.
Tell them that you understand
and that you’re proud
of all the things they do.

Each baby boy and girl
is worth far more
than all the money in the world.
Light a candle in your soul
for the inner city children.