The little girl wanders the vaults
and cries for a mother who can't come.
A kindly visitor catches a glimpse
of that tear-stained, dirty little face,
hears the endless weeping, whispered prayers.
It tears the heartstrings mercilessly.

She hurries out to where
the child can no longer go. She breathes
the fresh air and runs to the toyshop.

Back in the vaults, the darker side
of Edinburgh, the visitor leaves a gift -
a doll in a tartan kilt who has long blonde
hair - she leaves it for the crying
child known as Annie who walks now
with her prize as the vaults echo
with the distant sound of Annie's laughter.