The miner's little child stood outside her mine,
Where her father and uncles were working-
She looked at the
children with bags on their backs,
And wished she could
go to school too.
“Daddy,” said she,
when she was summoned to deliver he axes,
“Can’t I go too?” she
asked, pointing at them laughing guys.
She wished to visit
that place three blocks away,
Go there by day, and
return home to hit the hay.
She knew it all
couldn’t happen,
For her family’s life
was a mess,
Her family couldn’t
afford a single meal in their poor nation,
How could they afford
the ten year old’s education?
But her young little
mind wouldn’t pay no heed,
To her personal
desire. And didn’t care for the right or wrong either.
It just stook to its
stubborn nature,
Breaking apart her
sensibility’s stature.
Countless sleepless
nights followed. Her wishes weren’t fulfilled;
The miner’s little
girl was her father now.
Her son came up to
her, while delivering the axes,
And asked her the
very same question.
This cycle continued,
newer children took the miner’s little girl’s place,
But the situation and
desperation never seemed to end;
Though, in her
dreams, the miners’ little children would hope
For a day when all of
that would come to an end.
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