Their world is small,
Very small.
They are not a wee bit confused,
They know their way;
Their confidence high,
It lights up their face.
They smile, laugh and saunter
Through crowded thoroughfares
Easily and fearlessly,
The children of my street,
Those I parent,
Those caring ones
Widely seen romping about
Mischievously,
Breathing freely,
Unlike the shabby brats
That remains untamed
And fear the lash.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem