Elma Mitchell
In the dim light of the early dawn,
When shadows dance and night is drawn,
A child awakens, eyes weary,
To a life that's both harsh and dreary.
Dressed in rags and shoeless feet,
Their journey to work is far from sweet,
Through empty streets and alleys gray,
Where dreams of youth forever fade away.
The factory looms with its towering height,
Its walls enclose a world of plight,
Loud machines that never rest,
Produce the wealth but leave them oppressed.
Little hands, too frail, too small,
Toil ceaselessly, a labor's thrall,
Nimble fingers, dulled by relentless time,
Create the goods, yet yearn for a dime.
A meager wage, a meager life,
Deprived of joy and childhood rife,
Their spirit crushed by the weight of despair,
The burden of poverty beyond compare.
They labor on, their lives unadorned,
Their laughter lost, their laughter scorned.
In their young eyes, a world of woe,
Yet their resilience keeps their spirit aglow.
Elma Mitchell's poignant verse
Unveils the child's plight, a world perverse.
A call for compassion, a plea for change,
To uplift these children, their lives rearrange.
Let us not forget their silent cry,
Injustice and poverty must not ally,
For every child deserves a chance,
To bask in youth, to freely dance.
Their future holds a promise bright,
If we stand together in their fight,
To eradicate the child labor's shame,
And paint their world in colors of hope's flame.
May Elma's words reverberate,
Igniting passion in every state,
Let's pave the way for their dreams to unfold,
And build a world where children may truly grow old.