Bruises of Sorrow

By Grade 10 IP student Naya K.

Fingers battered and bruised.
Why were they the ones to be used?
Labour has their soft little hands abused.

And what of their tears?
None. There were none:
Replaced by silent fears.

No freedom can be given.
For they never had the freedom to articulate
To learn
To read
To play
To grow…
To live.

Lifelong cogs of monstrous machines
That toss their mutilated corpses away
When they reach the age of youth that is too old!
When bruises cover their dextrous fingers—
Fingers of nimbleness…
And the tears finally fall.