Looking through his hopeful eyes,
At the dark and dreary skies
He is a trusting soul,
But he can’t even see the hole
Doesn’t remember the whips,
Or when the man made him slip
He worships that place,
With a smile on his face
The hits lash across his back,
Sounds of the awful smack
Scars are hidden by the shirt,
But he doesn’t know he’s hurt
Other kids point and laugh,
As he enjoys his world of math
They don’t know the horror,
Of the following mortar
He does as he’s told,
And he still gets a shoulder of cold
Alone in the deep, dark dungeon,
But knows he’s not done in
Knowing one day he will be free,
Holding the lock and key
As long as he is filled with care,
He will one day get there
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem