Pretty Girl. 

I do what I'm told
Living in the road
I'm walked on and ran over-do I know I'm Indian, I don't know what that is.
I don't know rich, poor or more, I only know me.

I'm a little girl, hungry and scared.
I dance, I twirl, I smile a sad smile.
I do what I'm told.

Passengers have food, so many satisfied. Are they walked on, or sat on, or hit?
Are they Indian? My mother tells me they have money, they have food.
I dance.  I do what I'm told.

My hands are deep like the river but nothing fills them, they are empty like my eyes.
I am an Indian girl, my eyes are chocolate brown, my hair the color of black silk, my tears crystal white.
I'm hungry, I smile, can I dance for you?

My mother cries as the passengers walk by, her tears are fixed like when the sun rises.
What did I do?
My brother laughs but I'm still hungry.
I do what I'm told, can I dance for you?


An Indian girl
Where will I go? What will become of me? I want be like the passengers in the train.
They don't look hungry.
They don't smile, or dance.