A Job For A Lad Poem by sylvia spencer
A Job For A Lad
There was once a familiar scene above the roof tops
where smoke ascended. With the darkness of the skyline and
the dense November fog, a day not passing by without being
sick or tormented. Chimney sweeps and many of them boys and
boys that never knew how to play with games and toys.
Up the Chimney with a brush in hand, banishing the soot that
choked the land. None schooling lads with no knowledge of books
with soot covered faces just neglecting their looks.
'A job for a lad with a strong back, sixpence a day to clear soot from the stack!
A boyhood dream to earn a bob a two, a paid adventure to climb up
the flue, and the thinner the child he became first in the queue.
A low paid job but that's not all, their growth was stunted and some
never grew at all. Legs with rickets and ever fading eye sight
and a lad without daylight lives a long lonesome night.
If a boy could work he was put to the test, with a slump in the
summer he was grateful of the rest. He had no time to watch
the flowers grow and he knew nothing of the seasons with their
rain and snow.
A small wooden coffin was so often placed in a grave, and in it
a lad who went for a job and became a slave.
Through the smog and the haze I see hope for better days, but let us not forget these precious Children who had so much hard-ship to endure Thankyou for this fine piece Love duncan X
Thank goodness those days have been done away with, and children cannot be used and abused this way any more. Well done piece Rose, to bring those children back to mind.
do they still do that? ...little boys? ...India has kids under 14 working and the govt has banned it recently...but free education does not quell hunger...they are back at the jobs as soon as the govt is lax...a sad story beautifully penned sylvia...love...nalini
Lovely story Sylvia, well put together. You might like to read one I wrote about a chimney sweep. It was called 'The Little Chimney Sweep'., funnily enough.! ! It's a good subject to write about, one can be very pictorial. Love and hugs Ernestine XXX
A powerful and evocative word picture of these children who had to live in darkness. For such small souls, I feel sure, the angels wept. Beautiful write, Sylvia. Love, Sandra
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/24/2024 9:37:11 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Awwww...sad, but true. I love the fact that you've brought us back in time. Thank you. Hugs, Dee