I could be that girl.
Watching as my house burns down,
People shouting and running around,
My mother sweeps me off the ground.
And whispers, “It’s time to go.”
Sitting in a poor school building,
Learning from torn textbooks,
Eating from my small tiffin,
Waiting for another sun to set. I could be that girl.
Staring at the endless sky.
Watching time wither by.
Oblivious of a better world.
Is there such thing as a savior? *** I am not that girl.
Living in a land of opportunities,
Receiving the best education,
Blessed with all the sustenance,
Escaped a life unknown. But deep inside remains that girl.
The pain felt through empathy,
A desire to become her savior,
To grant her a fate same as mine.
A Message: We with roots from developing nations, Escaped poverty by God’s mercy, But in turn became merciless, Never turned back to look, to grant others a fate as ours.