Voice of a child

Why should we suffer?

Why should we pay?

Why should we do this everyday?

We are tired of doing this everyday

Stop child labour

It’s like they don’t know how we feel

Because our age doesn’t seem that real

But we feel more pain than they do

And for what they’re doing

They should be sued

We are sick of doing this everyday

Stop child labour

Our cuts and bruises aren’t healing

As we do this day by day

It’s like they feel, but have no feelings

And aren’t bothered of what we have to say

We are tired of doing this everyday

Stop child labour

They get paid with the tears we shed

We get no love or a bed

We need some help

So someone help us please

Help us get some dignity

Have the courage to raise your voice

To help those in need

Those whose voices are so shattered

And whose lungs cannot breathe

We are sick of doing this everyday

Stop child labour

Our sunken eyes are tired of crying

Our hearts are sick of dying

Just remember

You were a child once too

We deserve a life

A life where we have no work to do

We are tired of doing this everyday

Stop child labour

So what we’re saying is not just noise

If you had a heart

You’d hear a voice

And stop child labour

BY-MEHREEN MUJEEB

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A child’s cry

Papa ,papa I want to go to school,

Papa said Shut up your mouth you little fool,

Now go to work with your lunch and tool,

Before the sun melts the dawns cool.

So I start my lonely walk,

Keeping my thoughts private with no one to talk

I can hear the song of the skylark,

As I gaze longingly at the childrens Park.

After my long stroll, I reach the mine,

Where I have to work till nine,

I pretend everything is fine,

Znd start to work, Otherwise I wont

have anything to dine.

My heart is broken, because my friend Ted is dead

Some say it was because he inhaled poisonous lead

Whatever it is, his face was red,

And he fell sick and died in bed.

This job in mine is worst I hate,

My mother says Dear Tom, this is our fate

My Father says go to work, if you want a full plate.

I’m sure I’ll fall sick and die, if I work at this rate.

My greatest dream is to learn,

And to get a job by it and earn,

When I see other school going

boys,My heart burns,

With desire to study, alas my heart

can only yearn.

BY-IFMR

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Child Labour

A child,

Whose childhood has been snatched away,

Now works hard, day and night,

To earn a meager pay.

His eyes,

Full of tears, beg help me out!

Though he is quiet,

His heart silently shouts.

His tears go unseen,

His voice passes unheard,

He begs and he pleads,

But all ignore his words.

The hands, which were meant to

study and play,

Are working now,

Laboring all day.

Out his eyes look,

With a dream to be free and fly,

His hands, though bruised,

But his hopes are still high.

Every underprivileged child should be rescued,

The laws relating to their rights need consideration,

To build mightier countries,

And make them stronger nations.

BY- MAITREYEE

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STOP CHILD LABOUR

They wake up every morning

Before the light of day.

Having to go to work,

There’s no time for play.

They’re treated unfairly,

And being paid low wages.

Paid less than adults,

Because of their ages.

There’s no time for school,

They don’t have an eucation.

Don’t know their ABS’s.

What a frustration.

These unfair conditions,

Not suited for kids,

Should really be stopped,

But the law doesn’t forbid.

They’re treated unfairly,

And being paid low wages.

Paid less than adults,

Because of their ages.

Their health is affected,

dying quite young.

Bosses so heartless.

Children dying of Black Lung.

They work such long hours,

With very little pay,

Not recognized for their work,

And having no say.

These poor little children

Work in the street

In the bitter cold,

Walking on their little bare feet.

They’re treated unfairly,

And being paid low wages.

Paid less than adults,

Because of their ages.

Child Labor is such a crime.

Do something about it.

Save children from misery;

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Stolen Innocence-A poem on child labour

Sarah Khan, BSS Pakistan

Tear brimmed eyes scan the garbage

In search of cans and food

The eyes that never saw

The sight of playgrounds or school

The dry chapped hands that only felt

The touch of hammers and rags

The hands that only know

How to clean and scrub

And not to write and draw

The dusty feet that have never felt

The touch of a warm shoe

Or felt beneath them

A carpeted floor

The feet that only know

The prick of thorns and rocks

A child, child like us

Who should have gone to school

Who should have read the books we did

And eaten ice cream on a hot summer’s day

Instead of picking through the trash

Or weaving carpets with fingers that

Were meant to hold pencils and pens

A child, with childhood stolen away

Sarah Khan

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