Cloth

I hold the soft fabric in my hand
price tag cheap
I can't afford new, good shoes to heal my aching feet
But this cute top that makes me feel good
I can.

Woven in its threads
I see a pair of hard-working, colour-stained hands
A broken back and a hungry stomach
a mother's heart, aching for her child
but work she must
unsafe
pushed to the brink by management by a corporation hungry
for my money.

Cracks in the walls she works in
tottering over her
threatening to cave in on thousands of lives

I can't afford new good shoes to heal my aching feet,
but this cheap cute top makes me cry
for its true cost.



Poetry by SecretWords The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 804 times
Written on 2016-03-25 at 20:20

Tags Consumer  Materialism 

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josephus The PoetBay support member heart!
My compliments on this well written muse on essentially slave labour that exists in our world today. We are entirely too removed from the abuse heaped on the workers who provide our needs and wants from designer fashions to simple fruit and vegetables.

Language: 5
Format: 4
Mood: 5
Overall: 5
2016-03-27


Nancy Sikora
Well written and sadly true.
2016-03-26