THE CRY OF A DESPAIRING WAIF

On the busy streets I stand, laying my hand to them for a penny,
   They all seem to watch their distance, afeared of my reeking garments.
  On the ground lies a coin, from a sister afeared of my bemired hands,
   A gracious thank you my tongue utters, with the coin will get a donut.
  
   On the busy streets I stand, shoveling my hands into the bin,
   Little hope in my heart lies, for the night was long with an empty stomach.
   Wrapped in a polythene is a molded bulger, with a smile I unmold my harvest,
   A gracious thank you to the Almighty, for the stomach will calm for an hour.
  
   On the busy streets I stand, with memories of my late Papa,
   He called me prince coz of my beauty, which was lost the day he left me.
   I aged six when AIDS took him, got no strength to battle the minacious uncle,
   A gracious thank you to the Almighty, for He cares for His neglected lad.
 
   On the busy street I stand, with my body shuddering under the kindling sun,
   the night was full of grief and tensions, as I lied on the dampy floor.
   They left me wounded and incapacitated, with my bread and beddingss they fled,
   A gracious thank you to the Almighty, for I pulled through for a new day. 

Reviews

[Chrisjeey]

Hello comrades,
Am new in here trying to nurture my writing skills as I am truly passionate of becoming a prolific author.
Kindly review my items and if you may across any mistakes I won't mind for your correction.