Of Needle and Red

218 million child labourers in the world

1 in 7 children around the world are child labourers

Families in poverty cannot afford to send their children to school

children grow up without basic skills and education

Every year 22,000 children die in work related accidents

Children trafficked into one form of labour may be later sold into another, as with girls from rural Nepal, who are recruited to work in carpet factories but are then trafficked into the sex industry over the border in India.

Where are you buying your Christmas presents this year?

Of Needle and Red

Father Christmas screamed

“What the f*****g hell do you think you're doing?”

elves gawped up in fright

bones shivering muscles tight

knuckles ground into white

concentrate

create,create,create

in, out, in, out, in, out........

years of hundred weight betrayal

Eyes trapped in sorrow

slaughtered fingertips blossom

while delicate minds

weave weave weave

collapsing dreams leave

pressed into unyielding cloth

sewing steadily as sun dies

cold moon brays indignation

suffering of a mighty nation

in this no win situation

Father Christmas stomps

his jowl swinging in pomp

grunting woeful utterings

as little hearts plummet

shadows cling to walls

stomach rumbles, nature calls

never dare raise a voice

or have a tiny thought

as bitter looms stress

nimble fingers with needles bleed

for greed

work was work was work

many hungry mouths to feed

a family, but no flowering seeds

older elves dispersed, some time ago

sold they heard, a virgin worth her salt

moved on, all used up

what a way to go

Unable to greet words

what is their worth

in this unforgiving, forgotten world

Push the needle in, out, in, out

shed not a tear, utter not a sound,

in, out, in, out, in,,out

not a frown as faces remain blank

mummy had no wedding dress

forget the Sunday bloody best

clumsiness, drowsiness, idleness,

were options repressed

                                valueless

aching for a moment of tenderness

from life of permanent dread

tired loom folds

while he scolds

and elves souless

journey to the inevitable end.

Breath of his exasperation

sweat of his aggravation

It had to be ready

had to be streets ahead

word to the wise

time to capitalize

on his appetising carpet

of needle and red

stock stock stock

ticking of the clock

at this rate he'd never get to bed.

He raised his fist in rage and screamed...............

“What the f*****g hell do you think you're doing?”

Reviews

[Nobody.]

it's ugly....your shoes, shirts, beads, FLAGS are being made by little children in unsafe places, in filthy living conditions and under severe mental and physical duress. I was almost arrested in China when I happened on one of these places on vacation. I began shouting and became so....outraged that I had no control over myself. If not for a friend dragging me back to our hotel kicking and screaming....I'd probably be sitting in a cell right now. I've also seen some of those young kids being 'recruited' in Africa for 'sensual arts' jobs. It's disgusting. Damn those in this world who believe it is okay! Damn them!

Great write. Reality bites hard!

[PoppySilver]

Sweety, this has blown me away! You are so right and its what I have a poem about called "Commercial Madness" - Christmas is sickening, a con, a rip off and we never stop to think of all the people who need help whilst we are in the store buying meaningless rubbish!
Excellent poem!
Great work love!
xx

[My Fair Lady]

I am again left speechless. I appreciate your perspective as always. This is such a heart wrenching subject. God Bless the children.

[luciddreamer]

Outstanding writing......thank you so much for this :)

[Coyote Poetry]

You are correct. We are blinded by a media that don't want us to know. 1 million die a month from starvation in Africa. 1 million die of HIV. Children forced to be laborers and slaves. The 40 trillion(World wide) spend on war and defense could cure the hunger and do great things. Your words are powerful Photos made the words stronger. A outstanding poem.
Coyote