The cry of the victims

[Eniefiok]

They say we are the ones to lead the future but we are been crushed by the ones who tend to wish us well.
They seem to nurture us like precious gold but later cut us down like thorns in the midst of roses.
They say we are princes and princesses of the future but we work as if we are slaves of the past.
Then how well are their wishes for us?
Oh! What will become of us in the nearest future?
Nothing but destruction and misery.

Strange people from far and near, strange people both dark and fair
Come into our homes and take our source of strength.
Stroked and beaten, with great pain she does jobs that are forbidden
Stroked beaten and smitten in shame, she cries out with the voice of sorrowful song.
She cries for help but no one seems to come to her rescue
Oh! What will become of us in the nearest future?
Nothing but destruction and misery.

If then their well wishes are made so well
If then everyone is treated like roses and not like thorns
If then our mothers the sources of our strength are
Treated like precious gold that they are
If then our cry are being heard and people came to our rescue
What then do you think will become of us in the future?

[Salman Waheed]

That's some purposeful refined poetry...loved it

[Eniefiok]

Actually I wrote the poem because of the rate of child labor and human trafficking in my country.

[Njengnjoro]

I like these themes, good job.

[Eniefiok]

Thank you

[Kat Berg]

It is always difficult for me to comment on poetry, as it makes it somehow less. There is something about it that is distinctly meant for reflection over discussion. Lovely and heartbreaking.

[DATo]

Powerful and evocative poem. Very well written. Some of the English grammar is incorrect but this only adds to the poem rather than diminishes it by aiding the English language reader to understand that this is written in a foreign land.

My compliments on a very nice piece of writing.

[Lincolnshirelass]

Very powerful. It also reads allowed beautifully, with the air of an incantation.

[Eniefiok]

I guess it is not bad for my first poem.