Not My Concern tissue warning
The night was dark and damp and cold.
The match girl’s matches still unsold.
The passers by ignored her pleas
what she was selling failed to please.
An orphan child without a home.
By circumstances forced to roam
She earns enough to pay her way
but not today, but not today.
Ill clad in rags and frozen through
her tiny hands and feet are blue.
The freezing rain turns into snow
The match girl has nowhere to go.
Without money, she cannot buy
a night in somewhere warm and dry.
She tries in vain to sell her wares
Without success, nobody cares.
The falling snow was getting deep
and still she had no place to sleep.
Although she tried in vain to find
some shelter from the freezing wind.
This was the night the match girl died.
They found her frozen stiff beside
the local convents well barred door.
The little Sisters of the Poor.
Had not been very sisterly.
Ignored the orphans misery
because they did not choose to see.
Now kindly death has set her free.
No longer needs the charity
which they denied so easily
by pious women who profess
to proffer aid to the helpless.
I do not claim to be guilt free
but I make no pretence to be
a Little sister of the poor
and let a child freeze at my door.
I am quite sure they will
deny any responsibility
and call her death an accident.
They could nothing to prevent.
I should not judge but feel I must
express my feelings of disgust
That this child was allowed to die
for lack of Christian charity.
Although this happened long ago
There’s very little changed I know.
We’re still prepared to pass them by
and care not if they live or die.
We can pretend they don’t exist
an attitude which will persist
As long as we don’t choose to see
They’re our responsibility.
12-Aug-08
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
The Little Match Girl
It was biting cold, and the falling snow,
Which filled a poor little match girl's heart with woe,
Who was bareheaded and barefooted, as she went along the street,
Crying, "Who'll buy my matches? for I want pennies to buy some meat!"
When she left home she had slippers on;
But, alas! poor child, now they were gone.
For she lost both of them while hurrying across the street,
Out of the way of two carriages which were near by her feet.
So the little girl went on, while the snow fell thick and fast;
And the child's heart felt cold and downcast,
For nobody had bought any matchea that day,
Which filled her little mind with grief and dismay.
Alas! she was hungry and shivering with cold;
So in a corner between two houses she made bold
To take shelter from the violent storm.
Poor little waif! wishing to herself she'd never been born.
And she grew colder and colder, and feared to go home
For fear of her father beating her; and she felt woe-begone
Because she could carry home no pennies to buy bread,
And to go home without pennies she was in dread.
The large flakes of snow covered her ringlets of fair hair;
While the passers-by for her had no care,
As they hurried along to their homes at a quick pace,
While the cold wind blew in the match girl's face.
As night wore on her hands were numb with cold,
And no longer her strength could her uphold,
When an idea into her little head came:
She'd strike a match and warm her hands at the flame.
And she lighted the match, and it burned brightly,
And it helped to fill her heart with glee;
And she thought she was sitting at a stove very grand;
But, alas! she was found dead, with a match in her hand!
Her body was found half-covered with snow,
And as the people gazed thereon their hearts were full of woe;
And many present let fall a burning tear
Because she was found dead on the last night of the year,
In that mighty city of London, wherein is plenty of gold -
But, alas! their charity towards street waifs is rather cold.
But I hope the match girl's in Heaven, beside her Saviour dear,
A bright reward for all the hardships she suffered here.
poem by William Topaz McGonagall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sad Night
On the eve of my 21st birthday
I sat alone in freezing temperatures
I walked upon snow and almost slipped on frozen water
The sky was clear above me as a plane flew over head
Dark, cold, lonely, sad night
Amidst the frustration of the winter dog trying to bite my backside
My feet were freezing inside their boots
My body was numb; the icy air ate through my gloves
It provided a bone chilling unpleasantness
It is a cold, lonely, dark, sad night
I called a friend to have a chat, but there was no answer
I was literally standing atop a frozen snow angel
That I had formed with my body a few days earlier
I left a message, not much more to it
Tis a lonely, dark, cold, sad night
I crusaded from one side of the parking lot
To the other in search of light
I could find no sunshine in my presence
Nay, I was shrouded by the deepest blackest shadows
Of the dark, sad, cold, lonely night
I can not sleep, I can not hide
The death’s awake, alive inside.
2-3-09
poem by Jesse Tampa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Human's Soul Never Freeze
In snow on a bench a poor man sat,
He was frozen, so cold it was,
He didn't have any shelter,
But shared the bench with a dog.
His mustache and eyebrows were coated with snow,
His legs were numb, looking the color blue,
Although it was so cold, he didn't wear his warm coat,
Feeling for the dog he used his warm coat to cover the dog.
That poor man gave his coat,
To save and protect the dog's life,
Not caring for his own health, in the freezing cold,
He offered warmth and care to a dog.
People found them and took them to the shelter,
Gave them food and warmth to treat,
One sure thing from this is certain,
That a human's soul never freeze.
.................................. .......................
(This poem is inspired from a true story i saw on TV news)
poem by Cristina Teodor
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Complaints Of The Poor
And wherefore do the Poor complain?
The rich man asked of me,--
Come walk abroad with me, I said
And I will answer thee.
Twas evening and the frozen streets
Were cheerless to behold,
And we were wrapt and coated well,
And yet we were a-cold.
We met an old bare-headed man,
His locks were few and white,
I ask'd him what he did abroad
In that cold winter's night:
'Twas bitter keen indeed, he said,
But at home no fire had he,
And therefore, he had come abroad
To ask for charity.
We met a young bare-footed child,
And she begg'd loud and bold,
I ask'd her what she did abroad
When the wind it blew so cold;
She said her father was at home
And he lay sick a-bed,
And therefore was it she was sent
Abroad to beg for bread.
We saw a woman sitting down
Upon a stone to rest,
She had a baby at her back
And another at her breast;
I ask'd her why she loiter'd there
When the wind it was so chill;
She turn'd her head and bade the child
That scream'd behind be still.
She told us that her husband served
A soldier, far away,
And therefore to her parish she
Was begging back her way.
We met a girl; her dress was loose
And sunken was her eye,
Who with the wanton's hollow voice
Address'd the passers by;
I ask'd her what there was in guilt
That could her heart allure
To shame, disease, and late remorse?
She answer'd, she was poor.
I turn'd me to the rich man then
For silently stood he,
You ask'd me why the Poor complain,
And these have answer'd thee.
poem by Robert Southey
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Runaway
(music: marillion lyrics: steve hogarth & john helmer)
Did you cry when they dragged you home
Put a lock on the door and the telephone
Was a runaway girl all they could see ...
Have the nights and the days that youve come through
Made the right seem wrong and the false seem true
And was the runaway girl all they could see ...
A teenage extra from the satellite tv
Runaway girl
Too bad, too bad
Runaway girl
Too wild, too wild
Were they deaf to the prayer behind your lies
Maybe they didnt dare to ask you why
Was a runaway girl all they chose to see
All they were prepared to admit to
Runaway girl
Too bad, too bad
Runaway girl
Areal wild child
So you cower in the towns forgotten places
And you make your bed with unfamiliar faces
And at last youve got your freedom but thats all youve got
Youre tryin to make your mind up if youre better off
You pretend to wait for washing in some laundromat
But youre damned if youll give them the satisfaction of you going back
Youd freeze to death before youd share a roof with them
And youd starve before youd let him get his hands on you again
Did you cry when they dragged you home
Did you cry when they dragged you home
Poor little runaway, poor little runaway
song performed by by Marillion
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What If It Was Your Child
I saw a child yesterday sitting on a corner, tears
streaming down its face, and I stopped to ask
why and the child replied, “no one likes me,
they laugh at me and say I lie, but I don’t lie.”
I walk away after leaving a hug and some words
of encouragement, but as I walked home I said,
“thank God it was not my child.”
Today thousands starved to death because they
had no food. Some ones little girl, some ones
son, but my child ate well.
I turned off the television news and I said, “thank
God it was not my child.”
Every day it seems there is more tragedy, more
horrors, children dying, abused and killed, and it
seems nothing is done to change these things, but
my child is safe, warm and fed.
So when I go to sleep at night I pray and say,
“thank God it was not my child.”
This morning someone screamed at my child and
when I in anger started to reply I thought of Jesus on
the cross, his father watching as he suffered and died
at the hands of the very ones he came to save and I
walked away and prayed, “thank God it was not my
child.”
So my friends the next time you are upset over some
wrong you feel has been done to your child, think of
all the wrongs in the world and should you feel the
need for revenge remember, Jesus could have called
all the angels in Heaven for help but instead he cried,
“father forgive them they know not what they do.”
And God said, ” what if it was your child? ”
Snowblind
What you get and what you see
Things that don't come easily
Feeling happy in my vein
Icicles within my brain
(cocaine)
Something blowing in my head
Winds of ice, it soon will spread
Death would freeze my very soul
Makes me happy, makes me cold
My eyes are blind but I can see
The snowflakes glisten on the tree
The sun no longer sets me free
I feel there's no place freezing me
Let the winter sun shine on
Let me feel the frost of dawn
Fill my dreams with flakes of snow
Soon I'll feel the chilling glow
Don't you think I know what I'm doing
Don't tell me that it's doing me wrong
You're the one that's really a loser
This is where I feel I belong
Crystal world with winter flowers
Turns my day to frozen hours
Lying snowblind in the sun
Will my ice age ever come?
song performed by by Ozzy Osbourne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Winter of Discontent
I remember a winter a few decades ago.
Where our dear England was covered in snow.
It started on Boxing Day with a blizzard from hell
then in the course of a week the snow just fell.
This once green paradise was now a shroud of white
and everyone was suffering from chillblains and frostbite.
Outdoor life was like an indoor fridge
where everything had frozen like a mountain ridge.
Abandon lorries on the side of the road
men were freezing even their load.
Villages cut off all over the land
so in came the troops to lend a hand.
This was the winter of discontent that lasted from
Christmas, and way past Lent.
As one lot of snow cleared, it would return again
to bring freezing cold tempretures and a lot of pain.
Wind would blow both night and day, and still the snow
never went away.Drifts of snow standing six foot high
just being topped up with snow from a winter sky.
So what of this winter of ice and snow
one that happened a few decades ago.
I remember it as one that was cold and wild
because in the summer God presented me
with my first born child.
In this year, where snow fell in December
it was the coldest winter I will ever remember.
poem by Sylvia Spencer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Tramp On The Street
The snowflakes fell
like white feathers from heaven
leaving a white blanket on the ground.
He trudged through the lonely streets
with nowhere to go.
A tramp on the street
with only rags to cover his feet,
trying to find a place to sleep
and rest his weary bones.
He passed a frozen river,
it made his cold body shiver
for he could see a pair of hand raise up held
and hear a small voice as it yelled.
Without a moment hesitation,
though barely nothing on his feet
he started to walk
across the sharp iced water
even though the wind fiercely blew.
He had to reach the child
that had fallen through.
He moved as fast as he could
although he was almost crippled.
Reaching down he plucked the child
from the dark waters cold
as the wind blew fierce and wild.
He moved slowly to the shore
as a silent rain began to pour.
Finding shelter beneath some trees
covered the child in what
dry clothes he had.
He forgot about his feet that hurt
as he covers the child
with his ragged coat and shirt.
He made sure the child was warm
before he laid himself to rest.
The child later awoke to find
the tramp stiff and blue
within his snowy bed.
There is no moral to this story
of why one ill treated by society
would willingly forfit his life
so that an unknown child would live.
We can only ponder on the thoughts
that went through his head
as he laid himself down to sleep
on that snowy bed.
12 January 2008
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poor Little Girl
Poor Little Girl
Nobody cares what she does
She only lives what she was
In her mind reliving thoughts of yesterday
‘til she finds she knows her way she’ll have to play poor little girl
Poor little girl
Why can’t she love what she’s seen
People don’t want her to’ve been
Wasting time and living in her yesterday
‘til she finds she knows her way she’ll have to play poor little girl
Poor little girl
Her heart will shoulder
Who she’s intended to be
She may never know her
Until she has set herself free
Harboring the darkest nights of yesterday
So until she finds her way she’ll have to play poor little girl
Poor little girl
She’s so important to me
I admit I use to be
Runnin’ never knowin’ of my destiny
Blessings in disguise today that end that play
Poor little girl,
Poor little girl
Poor little girl
Little girl’s me
Copyright 1969, Will Fiala
poem by Will Fiala
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The Blind Girl
Kind Christians, pray list to me,
And I'll relate a sad story,
Concerning a little blind girl, only nine years of age,
Who lived with her father in a lonely cottage.
Poor girl, she had never seen the blessed light of day,
Nor the beautiful fields of corn and hay,
Nor the sparrows, that lifted their heads at early morn
To bright Sol that does the hills adorn.
And near the cottage door there was an elm tree;
But that stunted elm tree she never did see,
Yet her little heart sometimes felt gay
As she listened to the thrushes that warbled the live-long day.
And she would talk to the wren when alone,
And to the wren she would her loneliness bemoan,
And say, "Dear little wren, come again to-morrow;
Now be sure and come, your singing will chase away my sorrow."
She was motherless, but she had a drunken father,
Who in his savage moods drank all he could gather,
And would often cruelly beat her until she would cry,
"Dear father, if you beat me I will surely die."
She spent the days in getting ready her father's food,
Which was truly for her drunken father's good;
But one night he came home, reeling drunk,
And the poor child's heart with fear sunk;
And he cried, "You were at the door when I came up the lane;
Take that, you good-for-nothing slut; you're to blame
For not having my supper ready; you will find
That's no excuse, Sarah, because you are blind."
And with a stick he struck her as he spoke
Across the shoulders, until the stick almost broke;
Crying aloud, "I'll teach you better, you little sneak;"
And with the beating, Sarah's heart was like to break.
Poor little Sarah had never seen the snow;
She knew it was beautiful white, some children told her so;
And in December, when the snow began to fall,
She would go to the door and make a snowball.
One day she'd been very cheerless and alone,
Poor child, and so cold, almost chilled to the bone;
For her father had spent his wages in drink,
And for want of fire she was almost at death's brink.
Her face was pinched with hunger but she never complained,
And her little feet with cold were chilblained,
And her father that day had not come home for dinner,
And the dull grey sky was all of a shimmer.
So poor Sarah was very sick when her father came home;
So bad, little dear, that she did sigh and moan,
And when her father saw her in bed
He was heart-stricken with fear and dread.
So within a few days poor Sarah did die,
And for the loss of Sarah the drunken father did cry,
So the loss of his child soon converted him
From drinking either whiskey, rum or gin.
poem by William Topaz McGonagall
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Snowblind
What you get and what you see
Things that dont come easily
Feeling happy in my vein
Icicles within my brain
(cocain)
Something blowing in my head
Winters ice, it soon will spread
Death would freeze my very soul
Makes me happy, makes me cold
My eyes are blind but I can see
The snowflakes glisten on the tree
The sun no longer sets me free
I feel theres no place freezing me
Let the winter sun shine on
Let me feel the frost of dawn
Fill my dreams with flakes of snow
Soon Ill feel the chilling glow
Dont you think I know what Im doing
Dont tell me that its doing me wrong
Youre the one whos really a loser
This is where I feel I belong
Crystal world with winter flowers
Turns my day to frozen hours
Lying snowblind in the sun
Will my ice age ever come?
song performed by by Black Sabbath
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Seven Days
I dont care if the rain dont shine
Oh, I dont care if the sun dont fall
You are the one in a million, child
And you knew that I would call
Thoughts of you alone with me
I cant slow them down
But I cant sleep at night
Because youre not around
I cant wait
Seven days is a long time
To be waiting for you girl
I cant wait
Seven days is just too long
To be without you girl
Ive tried every kind of distraction
But nothing will ease this pain
There is only one solution, girl
So why do you make me wait
Got to say I didnt think
That I could read your mind
But I cant sleep at night
cause baby youre on mine
I cant wait
Seven days is a long time
Oh, I miss you girl
I cant wait
Seven days is just too long
I cant wait
Seven days is a long time
To be without you
I cant wait
Seven days is just too long
Just too long
song performed by by Uriah Heep
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cold As Ice
I dont think you understand
Oh the rhythm of my heart
Theres a strong line to mind and soul
I feel it tearing apart
Ive been searching for new words
Gonna make you understand in a different way
When I told you Id hang on forever
I threw my choice away
And its cold as ice
I cant let go
Its cold as ice
Baby but I need your love
And I wish I could have been the first one
Oh to walk out the door
The more I find myself to blame
The less there is to come back for
You wish you could have been the last one
To tell me how you really feel
Cause when you closed the door oh deep inside
My heart it still seemed so sincere
And its cold as ice
I cant let go oh
Its cold as ice
Baby but I need your love
Its cold as ice
I cant let go
Its cold as ice
Baby but I need your love
If theres a message to this madness
Well it still seems quite unclear
If I really need to save myself
Why cant I just walk out of here
Theres a message in your eyes
And you make it perfectly plain
Either I leave your heart behind
Or crack beneath this freezing
Freezing freezing freezing rain
Cold as ice
(cold as ice)
I cant let go
(but I cant let go)
Cold as ice
Baby but i
But I need your love
All right
I said Im cold
Cold Im cold
(cold as ice)
Cold Im cold
(baby)
Cold Im cold
(cold as ice darling)
Cold as ice
(cold as ice)
Oh no but I cant let go
(I said Im freezing, freezing)
Oh no no I cant let go
(freezing, freezing, freezing, freezing)
No no Im cold as ice
(whoa whoa baby yeah)
Im cold as ice
But I cant let go
No
song performed by by Indigo Girls
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Eyes of a child
Eyes of a child
Such gems in stones
Staring you close
Still as blue sky
They don't lie
Their sun is shining
While you are crying
Eyes of a child
Day or night
I got no light
Free as a child
I can be wild
Eyes of a child
Let them go, into the snow
Without your grace
There's a lot more to know
Just glance over their face
It's the eye of a child
Free and wild
Child don't think too much
Ain't no worry as such
Joy driven life they live
Half-a-soul they give
It's the eyes of a child
Free and wild
Save me child
Save me child
Set me free and wild
Eyes of my child
poem by Siddharth Shah
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There Once Was A Tiny Girl
there once
was a tiny girl
who grew up
in this world
there once
was a tiny girl
who cried herself to sleep
every night
there once
was a tiny girl
who wore the same dress
every day
there once
was a tiny girl
who wouldn't go out
and play
there once
was a tiny girl
who would bleed and have bruises
from head to toe
there once
was a tiny girl
who begged
daddy, please no more
there once
was a tiny girl
who the angels
heard her prayer
they came down
and took her
to a better place
where that tiny girl
found love
instead of hate
by: crystal sonier
age: 15
poem by Natalia Anna Joelie
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Boadicea (Mother's touch) Ft Rekha Mandegere
At one late night
Behind the wall
Through the window
Where all life pull the blanket
Except one sleepless at night
The aid of moonlight
The shadow reveal secret,
A women stand hugging a child
Crying because the bites of cold night
Or maybe a nightmare played in the dark
She sat and kissed,
deliver warmest hug
Her calming sounds
Tunes move from her lips
Whispering a soulful lullaby
Original song composed by heart
'Lovely star, I tell the world
What a precious gift is mine
Nothing can match with its golden shine'
Close the eyes, tiny one
Swayed by the secure
The child fall asleep again
The child always love
And be loved forever
When the world turn down
She comes with her palm on our face
'Sweet child, make the world smiles
A lovely pole star, my twinkled bright'
'Standing at the height of the sky
Above all the hills and dales
It’s nature of law, none can forgo
Thunderstorms will come and go'
Oh Lord, you stop my worry
Her wisdom make life sound easy
Her words Her love
Carry anywhere
with love affair
Her cry Her strength
Birthing love to life
Feeding little with care
She carrying you in heart
Respect her whole heart
A mother in anywhere
Hold a responsibility from Him
Embracing child as He sent
Beautiful life circulate fairly treat
A child, anyone, everywhere
Hold a responsibility from Him
Respect her, care and love
Till one day
Could be a day
In one silent night,
The child comes near
Whispering dear to ears
A kiss upon her silver hair
to sing familiar tunes flare
'Lovely Ma, I share to the world
What a precious gift is mine
Nothing can match with her golden shine'
Time will reveal for a child
See her smile listening her cradle song back to her :)
: : : : : : : : : : : : : : : Theme: Mother's love: : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : :
Great chance to write a poem with fellow poet
She acts as a mother in this poem, which give
a true effect just like a mother's touch
: : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : :
poem by Unwritten Soul
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If I Should Die Tonight
If I should die to-night,
My friends would look upon my quiet face
Before they laid it in its resting-place,
And deem that death had left it almost fair;
And, laying snow-white flowers against my hair,
Would smooth it down with tearful tenderness,
And fold my hands with lingering caress, --
Poor hands, so empty and so cold to-night!
If I should die to-night,
My friends would call to mind with loving thought
Some kindly deed the icy hands had wrought,
Some gentle word the frozen lips had said,
Errands on which the willing feet had sped;
The memory of my selfishness and pride,
My hasty words would all be put aside,
And so I should be loved and mourned to-night.
If I should die to-night,
Even hearts estranged would turn once more to me,
Recalling other days remorsefully;
The eyes that chill me with averted glance
Would look upon me as of yore, perchance,
And soften in the old familiar way,
For who could war with dumb, unconscious clay?
So I might rest, forgiven of all to-night.
Oh, friends! I pray to-night,
Keep not your kisses for my dead, cold brow:
The way is lonely, let me feel them now.
Think gently of me; I am travelworn;
My faltering feet are pierced with many a thorn.
Forgive, oh, hearts estranged, forgive, I plead!
When dreamless rest is mine I shall not need
The tenderness for which I long to-night.
poem by Arabella Eugenia Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Innocent Child
I was just a child, an innocent child
I didn't know when, I didn't know how.
I was just a child, an innocent child.
She couldn't save me from what happened,
even though she tried. She always tried.
she was my guardian angel.
I was just a child, an innocent child.
I couldn't be saved then, and I cant be saved now.
The dark angel came over, knocked on my door.
sucked the life out of my family, I was only 5.
I was just a child, and innocent child.
I didn't understand, Where did they go? What happened to mommy and daddy? What happened to sissy? Why didn't they come home last night?
They brought the car to my house, thought someone else would be home, but it was just me, just a little 5 year old..I looked at it... I saw the twists and the turns... the dents and the broken glass.. the scars will always be there.. I see it slamming into a ditch..rolling, rolling, and when it stops.
Silence...
I was just a child, an innocent child.
I didn't understand. how could that happen.. what happened?
I was just an innocent child, the innocent child.
She went away that night.. and she never came back.
poem by Forever Gone
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Introducing... Me!
I am the woman who was the girl who thought she was alone.
The same girl that pretended to be the life of our group to stay on top.
The girl who was everyone's friend even though I did not like myself very much.
I was the girl who thought that love only came in one form.
So I used it to my advantage and ended up scorned.
I was the girl that found herself in trouble too deep to be fished out.
I was the girl who grew up too fast with no way out.
I had to grow, so that I might learn to be the mother I needed to be.
I was the girl who was a child-mother with only my own mother there for me.
The girl who was afraid to pout who had to be always brave.
The girl who felt as if I never got but only gave.
I was the girl who made all her own choices and stood up to take responsibility.
I was the girl who told the world how dare you judge her because of me.
Now I am the woman who, will fight the very devil for my childrens lives.
I fought him for two of my babies and won, my fourth in God's arms lay.
I am the woman who will stand up and shout for what I believe.
The woman who learned the hard way there is no reprieve.
I am the woman who finally learned how to love herself.
And in doing so found true love at last.
I am the woman who is the life of the party now.
The woman that has few real friends, but they matter more then they did then.
I am the woman who can cry and know it will be alright.
I am the woman who can say,
I am beautiful today.
If not for one woman who was there to help show me how.
I would not be the woman standing here now.
My Mother is the woman in me who I long to be.
My Mother is the woman I emmulate and hope my girls will come to be like.
She is stronger then Breast Cancer. Stronger then Divorce.
Stronger then all the trials I put her through.
If she were not here today what would I do?
poem by Lydie Mathers
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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