That homeless girl

That could have been me.

She seems trapped in poverty, 

But to me she seems free.

At a young age

She leared to grow up

How to be a leader 

Instead of making a fuss.

Sure she has little,

But she has so much

Of the knowledge we lack

And she can't even afford lunch.

I had just spent money on food

So I didn't really have any to give. 

But I gave her half my sandwich 

And invited her to where I lived.

She's high in spirit.

Had a voice and no one could hear it.

Now she's fed, And taken to bed 

Now like a little sister. I call her "Little Red"

I'm glad I met  her that one day.

Once poor living on the Brooklyn streets,

She had her own identity

Plus she was rich with  personality.