Labour of Emotions

a poem by

Anusha

Tears of sweat roll down,
Chained, I am, to the cruelty of this holy ground.
Work and slave through night and day;
No freedom, no joy, no laughter and no play.

Money and survival, the aim I take,
As I slave my health and life away.
In hardened and hazardous surroundings I sway,
My life’s own right I fake.

Toys and games I am denied,
My life to god has been lied.
But your may ask why I fuss while the world works its way around.
Alas! I cry for I am denied this simple joy,
Though I am just a nine year old boy.