Out of the manholes they crawl
to face another hopeless day.
Not rats or cockroaches,
but Romania's children.
Selling their miserable bodies
for food, or glue.
Food barely sustains, but sniffing
glue anaesthetises their misery.
Children of Romania, raped,
abused, diseased and forgotten.
Alina, just sixteen was heard to say.
'I wan't to die'
Why not?
She's only just alive.
jerry hughes
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/ceausescu-s-children-1996/
