And long forgotten children gather there.
Bleak tenements cast shadows black and stark,
And empty stomachs growl, no food to share.
Those dull and empty eyes that see no hope
Are held again in blank and depthless stare.
Pale faces gaunt as orphans try to cope,
Their desperation breeds a cruel despair.
The uniforms appear, surrounding all,
And frenzied, frightened children darkward dash.
There follows quickly a one-sided brawl,
And heads are bloodied by a truncheon’s crash.
They’re thrown in wagons, then sent off to jail,
A dreary cell till they can board the train.
A rag-tag group upon the western trail,
The past to lose – and everything to gain.
>------<
At station’s stop they march them out to stand them in a row.
Freshly scrubbed, to be shown off, these innocents don’t know,
Poked and prodded, muscles felt before the gawking crowd.
Should they smile or scream and yell, or stand there tall and proud?
The chosen few are led away, they're trembling and afraid.
Will they find their peace and rest, a family ready made?
The lives they knew now far behind, unsure of what’s ahead.
Would they choose to be back there, or facing this instead?
With shuffling feet and down-turned eyes, they clamber back aboard.
Bitter tears wash down the face of those who’ve been ignored.
A puff of steam, the whistle toots, the screech of steel on steel,
The next stop getting closer now, with each turn of the wheel.
The Orphan Train’s a’comin’ to the next town on the line.
In the early morning sun, it’s almost half past nine.
The station’s filled with people though, as the kids file past,
This town like the next one but, each hopes that it’s the last.
Caleb stands defiantly, the farmer comes his way,
Hoping he can find a hand to take with him today.
“You smell,” the strapping lad exclaims, “don’t you come too near.
I reckon you ain’t had a bath for neigh unto a year.”
A filthy hand is thrust at him, they’re staring eye to eye.
The strapping lad takes one step back, then lets his right hand fly.
The farmer ducks, the punch connects, a high pitched cry of pain,
With throbbing hand the youngster turns and heads back to the train.
All the children gathered in, it’s once more outward bound.
A puff of steam, the whistle blows, a haunting, eerie sound.
The Orphan Train is gone once more, and in its passing there,
Did it find them family homes, or bondage and despair?
>------<
Now in conclusion, what is said, what can we learn from this?
Was this idea born of love, or were we just remiss?
What of the children taken here, the change for good or bad?
Was this really good for them or just a passing fad?
For us today, it seems so strange, so far from what we know.
Children torn away from home, had we really sunk that low?
But some will say it was the best, the thing that had to be.
And in some ways I’m sure it was, but they surely were not free.
Gold trophy winner
Adding your comment:
It's totally unfair entering this piece 
It doesn't give others a chance 
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