Your big brown eyes so wet they glisten

Will nobody see, can someone listen

Your tiny hand held out with little hope

A coin please, any will help you cope

Your home a busy Indian train station

Your life completely without expectation

Your big brown eyes yet to see glee

Will nobody listen, can someone see

Your tiny hands sift through other's trash

Something to convert into a bit of cash

Your home some Brazilian waste tip

A young girl who never learned to skip

Your big brown eyes have seen too much

We don't listen yet see the flimsy crutch

Shoeless feet provide little of a shield

For the mine lying in your playing field

Your home under the hot African sun

Where even a child might carry a gun

Your big blue eyes look up at your dad

We don't listen, don't see you so sad

Coming more time off school you know

At least until the bruises no longer show

Your home may be the end of my street

You might be the next young child I meet