What choice did she have?

What choice did she have? My mother? 

Day after day we begged on street corners.

Day after day we starved. 

What did hope feel like? That day?

A thrill. The promise of money and food from a man who seemed friendly.

Hour by travelled hour I hoped.

What had I imagined it to be? This promise?

Not this. The dust, the dark, the heavy bricks. 

Day after day I worked. 

Why did they do it? Those men?

The work took on a different form in the evenings.

Minute by minute my innocence stolen. 

What did she think? My mother? 

Her child taken and no word since,

As week after week there is no pay. 

What do you think? Free as you are?

Will you allow this to go on?

Second by second little lives pay 

For what you wear, eat and use.

Will you allow this to go on? 

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