The Truth Fairy

Cold and lonely in the rain
Tattered girl, sits in the cold.
Feet in the storm water drain.
Dreams of pearls and gold.

Across the polluted river
On a bridge of burning steel
Little boy’s feet chase the tourists in the heat.
Sells trinkets for an evening meal.

A man sets himself up by the bay
And brings out chalk and charcoal
He draws on scenes from misplaced dreams
Reminiscent of a life he could not control.

The terror of this broken world.
Have taught each of them to be wary.
But the only one to see their struggles
Is the blind old truth fairy.