Part 1

I want to make it clear that this isn't original. I did not write this poem. However, my grandma passed it to me, and so I want to share it with others. If it makes you cry, I apologize. But it is just that powerful.

In a dark and dismal alley, where the sunshine never came,

Dwelled a little lad named Tommy, sickly, delicate, and lame.

He had never yet been healthy, but had lain since he was born,

Dragging out his weak existance, hopeless and forlorn.

 

He was six years old, little Tommy, 'twas just five years ago,

That his drunken mother dropped him, and the babe was crippled so.

He had never known the comfort of a mother's tender care,

But her cruel blows and curses, made his pain still worse to bear.

 

There he lay within the cellar, from morning until night,

Cursed, neglected, starved, ill-treated, no one to make his dull life bright.

Not a single friend to love him, not a single friend to love,

For he knew not of the Savior, nor of heaven up above.

The End

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