A Busy London Night
http://www.writerspodium.org/articles/6896/1/A-Busy-London-Night/Page1.html
lydia bagnall
I have been writing since I was about eleven, when I realised that I had a talent for it. I was getting above the usual grades for my tests in English... By lydia bagnall
Published on 11/26/2007
A little poor girl sitting alone in a london street alley
A Busy London Night
The snowflakes lay dusting the ground,
The streets of London were busy.
But no one paid attention to the little girl,
Sitting dirty in the alley.
Evertime there was someone walking in her direction,
Her face lit up too think some-one .
Was here too get her then fell,
When she realised they didn't even see her.
Her clothes were rags,
Yet her skin bared no sign's of cold.
She was used to it ,
But her frost bitten nose shone red.
Her dirty blonde hair lay long across the mud,
Her thin limbs tucked into a cloth she had found.
Her face was sunken like a skeleton,
Her eyes shook with tears that refused to fall.
The streets of London were busy.
But no one paid attention to the little girl,
Sitting dirty in the alley.
Evertime there was someone walking in her direction,
Her face lit up too think some-one .
Was here too get her then fell,
When she realised they didn't even see her.
Her clothes were rags,
Yet her skin bared no sign's of cold.
She was used to it ,
But her frost bitten nose shone red.
Her dirty blonde hair lay long across the mud,
Her thin limbs tucked into a cloth she had found.
Her face was sunken like a skeleton,
Her eyes shook with tears that refused to fall.