I sit by the road,
But I am always being ignored.
I always ask for something,
But I get nothing.

Will this slum never change?
Before I die?
Will I get a chance,
To see my chidren,
With a better future.

I feel so dull,
I see the birds,
Who fly away,
I see small girls,
Who go to school.

My home is so smelly,
And so unclean,
And full of dust,
Everything is rotten and rust.

I have nothing to eat,
Nothing new to wear,
And nowhere to go.

When will my life change
Into a luxurious life?
But living as a poor man is better,
For if I am rich,
I shall be greedy for more and more,
and shall never be satisfied

Every man shall not be satisfied for ever,
For life is not a bed of roses
But of thorns!!