From Child Labor To Divine Ecstasy

Utter me a lamenting word; we're enduring terribly.
A thing past forgets, weaved in emotional leeway.
Simply capping to bear, inside the inward personality.
Conjuring an immovable conviction of power decay.

We don't forget, yet the splitters rise promptly tall.
Providing expanse for visible shadows to improve.
Sunshine glares through possible cracks in a vast wall.
They'd instead allow proper shades than curtly remove. 

At 13 years aged, I toiled with dullness and disarray.
While my friends invest vitality at the coast way,
None beats assisting our vast kin with daily cash.
As yet, the child work misuse endured a moaning clash.

When the whiff crackles my sun-damaged hair,
Bushy brows, credulity cloaked in a razor-thin stare. 
In the ingenious wrapping depicting rainbow,
Our dreams crave a variety of gold pastry yellow. 

I could achieve my goal if I had bettor arm. 
I need to work as opposed to getting a training form.  
Crammed inside of the gloomy, fearsome facility.
With hundreds of underages within the occupancy,

For what motive should boys bear-like Steve Jobs?
The most they can compete is a dollar daily odds.
They should be nimble, sturdy, and esteemed.
Not altering at a factory under hot eyes enraged.

The beginning of dusk goes prior to morning.
On the shoulder, there is a blaze of lightning.
Perceiving that we've merely been a pawn.
A view on life deepens the rule of aging brawn.

With regards to all-inclusive visual impairment,
Society's clever lies are fastened to its acquirement.
Divine intervention will vastly convey reality.
Every one of the clasps was at that point slouchy.

Written: December 17, 2021

DIVINE INTERVENTION Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Chantelle Anne Cooke

adventureappreciationbereavementchild abuserhyme

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Valsa George

December 20, 2021 at 8:00 AM

Children at a young age should be enjoying life. Instead it is sad to see them made to slog with too much of work on their shoulders. Those who exploit children thus make illegal profit. A touching personal experience....dear poet friend~

Bill Baker

December 19, 2021 at 9:02 AM

A deeply moving poem, Lasaad. Sorry it was something you jad to experience. It is atrosious that the greed of man can so abuse the young,the hope of the next generation in such treachery. "The love of money is the root of all evil", a wise saying of old. Greed causes a man or woman to lose their humanity. They abuse others and just as bad, they abuse themselves unknowingly. Thanks for sharing your poetry with us Lasaad. A poet friend, Bill

Demetrios Trifiatis

December 18, 2021 at 4:31 PM

Those who built their happiness upon the exploitation of children's labor must be condemned by God and Man alike! A powerful and truthful poem, masterfully written, my dearest friend, Lasaad!

David Kavanagh

December 18, 2021 at 11:48 AM

A wonderfully constructed poem Lasaad, the truth inside is indeed lamentable, these multibillion dollar companies look so respectable from the tip, yet rotten to the core, they are nothing short of modern day slavers, sad part is somethings never change, cheers David