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
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