Child Labour Poem by priya gouda

My name is sohan
I had to be done
At age of ten
I was sweeping & washing the plates in hotel
My mother left me alone
My father had me sold
I was in trouble
And had been beaten
I never saw school
So everyone called me fool
I was given to eat filth
A difficult situation for my teeth
Rich people’s dustbin
Was my food tin
Water which I drink
Nothing but of sink
But, then also I never steal
Nothing was better than this deal
The heat was scorching
And I was being torturing
My dress was full sweaty
They don’t had any sympathy
My condition was pitiable
They think it was suitable
The condition of mine
Was like alcohol & wine
I think we are young Indians
But being beaten by solid Indians
It is unbearable pain for me
Please stop torturing me.
stop child labour!