A child steps off the train,
His figure, drab and plain.
Poor child, tired and drained,
Walks through the endless rain.
Through the crowds he finds his way,
In the streets, nothing less than a stray.
This boy has no name,
And if he did, would anyone care anyway?
He makes his home among the stained,
With those who are wrongly blamed
For problems caused by those less tamed
than this poor boy could ever dream.
And yet, he’s tossed with bad grain
In the trash bin of disdain,
Left to die with such raw pain.
How bleak, how gray!
But here comes hope unplanned
A sliver of light among the bland!
She is a mother, her heart untanned,
Willing to foster with open hand.
The boy is scared, but sees his fare
And chooses her, who will to care
For him as if her child to stroke his hair
And love him always despite his weight to bear.
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