Consume your needs, consume her knees
All for a seasons discounted greed
her fingers blistered from needle pricks and beatings
your desire for your fall haul only keep repeating
two cents, four cents, seven nights with no gods day
two cents, four cents, a sixteen hour shift on her 11th birthday.
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Author:
Adam Shirley (
Offline) - Published: July 12th, 2021 19:52
- Comment from author about the poem: It is upsetting that many children are stripped from their childhoods to work at such an early age, it’s short, but straight to the point.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 22
- Users favorite of this poem: L. B. Mek
Offline)
Comments1
centuries later and your words
poignantly, reminded me - of both:
Elizabeth Browning's 'The cry of the children'
'Do ye hear the children weeping, O my brothers,
Ere the sorrow comes with years?
They are leaning their young heads against their mothers---
And that cannot stop their tears.'
( https://mypoeticside.com/show-classic-poem-4257 )..
*and William Blake's 'London'
'A mark in every face I meet,
Marks of weakness, marks of woe.
In every cry of every man,
In every infant's cry of fear,
In every voice, in every ban,
The mind-forged manacles I hear:
How the chimney-sweeper's cry
Every blackening church appals,'
( https://mypoeticside.com/show-classic-poem-3087 )
...
*how depressingly, morose
this modernity - of reality
we all yearn: to hide from...*
thanks for sharing, dear empathetic poet
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