The Economy of the World Rests On My Shoulders and My Shoulders Rest On You

All the windows are boarded the room is big and loud and bright I never hear doors opening and closing I no longer hear silence I can no longer feel silence the ringing in my ears never stops I place the platinum chip in the cell receiver there is no time to make sure it is in good before I blink the next one is in front of me thousands of times each day the same motion so many motions but time seems to be still only the hot breath of the floor boss moves My father and my mother work here too but I am not able to see or talk with them someday I will go to school and learn to read nineteen girls sleep in the same small room we have little rest and only one meal a day I am 12 years old and dream of many things I have never had a pretty new dress I have pain in my hands that won’t go away I want to cry but I am not allowed to do so sometimes I find it hard to breathe right sometimes it feels like I am burning up sometimes I hear myself screaming inside You must understand I am not complaining I am grateful for this wonderful opportunity you must realize how much you mean to me