These poems and essays were written by students of Year 11K,
Royal College, Sri Lanka
The Mine Worker
The boy next door,
Gets up early but not at home,
Nor is he at school,
Instead work as a helper in a coal mine.
The Saints have gone, The Devil rules,
Crushing his youth as they push him and kick him.
His poor bones shaking,
The boy carries heavy loads as twice
as his weight.
People; aren't they swine!
His hearts leaps as he gets his wages,
Flies home kisses his mother,
But cries, realising what he had missed in his life,
Unable to be at school,
Because he lives for his family,
How many times had he thought of running away?
But the sight of his sick mother makes him stay.
In his dreams he sees the mine,
Where hundreds of children dig, dig for their lives,
Dying over hard coal which is just worth few ruppees,
How can they estimate the value of a human life?
People; aren't they cruel!
Charaka Yapa Abeywardana
A world filled with fear,
to a boy who walk down the street
Utter desperation closing from the rear,
He would even like to meet
The devil himself!
Carrying a burden,
One which is too much for his fame
One which is too much for his little mind,
Looking at the dust his mind gets wings
Like the little bird!
Shouts of joys and mischief,
Slowly piercing his ears
His Brothers and Sister flocking around his,
With freedom floating above
Suddenly he is blown back,
Into the depths of hell
Oh why ? Oh why? can't his mother take him back,
I'm sure that my master wrote to her.
Fear replaced desperation,
As he remember that
He had left the loaves of bread,
Still on the baker's hut.
Oh why can't he find joy in this world?
Anjana Dharmasir
Soft little hands,
Working through out the day,
Scolding's an beating's,
To a little mind.
Work more & more,
And gets a little salary,
With out going to school,
And live for the day.
We all should know,
That they all also should be,
Well educated,
As well as we.
D.P.Rozairo
I walk down a street,
Filled with vendors stalls,
I see a small child,
Struggling with a load,
A load too great for him.
His Innocent smile is no longer there,
He puts down his load and stares at the sky,
Sweat pouring from him,
He sits down for a rest,
He sighs....
He stands again,
Knowing that he must go on,
Knowing pain and hunger,
But not love, not warmth,
Tears come to his eyes.
People pass his,
He stands there unseen and unheard,
He sees a vivid poster,
He is fascinated,
But he hears his name.
He again begins to toil against,
The heat, the unending heat,
His dreams are gone, his hopes as well,
He sees a child
Playing with another.
He wonders why life was so unfair to him,
He who is like any other child,
Pure and Innocent.
Danul Gunatileka
I watch at him and he at me,
But he is free unlike me,
To play, to love as his meant to be,
Although very near nor seems far,
Too far to reach his thoughts.
I sweep the floor although tired and distress,
I watch him play as he at me,
He sees me sweep,
And call me to play,
But I can't go because my work is in complete.
The day has passed, and the moon shines bright,
Look at it through the bars,
The light shines but not on me,
I know it shines only for the ones who are free.
Today will pass and tomorrow will come,
Just as day and night,
I hope to free myself someday,
And have a family of my own,
Caring for them, unlike my parents for me.
Dhanushka De Silva
Oh! look at that child caring that heavy gun,
Don't know what to do with it,
He is searching for his parents,
Not knowing that he's in a battlefield.
I wonder if he know what love and care means,
I wonder if he knows what he is doing
Who is he, but a poor child?
Who is a victim of Child exploitation.
The time has come for us,
To take a step against child labour,
And to help these poor children,
To see a brighter new day.
Indika Jayasingha
I saw a child working,
Forlorn by all means,
The man is,
Having a prosperous life: By
Purloining and exploiting
The child.
The child still has eyes,
Pouring tears from both sides,
How can he clear his life?
He won't,
Understand till he be a man.
The child work hard,
Tries to make his owner satisfied,
Satisfaction of the man,
Will not,
Release the child,
But earn more and more by,
devastating the child's life.
Isan Abeyasinghe
The sand melting by the sun,
Makes the eye go dark and pale,
At the edge of the stretch of sand,
I see a staggering shadow.
It comes near and nearer,
like it is force to walk on the heated sand,
When it comes even nearer,
My eyes begin to see a "CHILD",
His face is wrinkles,
And his back bends,
Under the weight of the gun,
As he walk with his bare feet,
The heated sand, makes tears come,
Down his pale cheeks.
His stomach flated by hunger,
Shows that he has not eaten for days,
His ragged clothes blow in the dry wind,
Making him swagger side to side.
As he walk down,
He dreams about a different scene,
A happy family with smiling faces,
And a child with a schoolbag on his shoulder.
A sharp thorn,
Wakes up him from his dream,
Once again his face becomes painful,
As he journeys down the sand.
At last a bush hides him in its shadow,
Away from my eyes,
I feel some thing in my thought,
And my eyes shades an unseen fear.
M.M Gavindu Chathuranga Mapa
Child Labour is a blazing problem in the whole world. Especially in the third world. People talk about it, they condemn it, say bad things about child labour which are true of course but that's just it. We talk about and talk about it and do nothing "Just talk, no action" people could ramble on for the rest of their lives. Those who engage in child trafficking will never be caught their profits blooming everyday. In most cases officials who hold offices of the highest prestige and honour accept bribes to turn a blind eye to child trafficking.
The world has progressed a lot since Columbus discovered the new world. That is undeniable man who began as cannibals and barbarians are now considered civilised beings. I say "considered" because the child in the twenty-first century is more insecure than he ever was. More insecure that even he was in the dark ages.
Who is to blame? Men with ruthless ambition. Men Who will stop at nothing to make some money and further their ends. We must stop them! If we try we can do it. There is a old saying nothing is impossible if we put our minds in to it. Millions of children work in appalling conditions in a constant fear of death. All the children deserve a good education. They don't need to worry about having a job. Their Future must be good one for they have the potential to do more things for this world so we must stop this menace of child labour.
Mahesha Weerasinha
I think I am the unhappiest child in the world. When I see the other children are playing and enjoying with their fathers, I feel very sad, because I also had a time such as joyful in the past. I can remember every thing that caused to vanish that happiness.
When my father came home after his work, I run to the front and hold his hands. He gives the foods to me with love as he does everyday. But oneday all the happiness are vanished by a terrible happening. One day when he was coming to the railway station to catch the train to the village he saw that he was late and the train was beginning to go. he had run quickly to get hold in the train. But unfortunately he could not touch it completely and he had missed the pole and fell between the train and the platform. He had been seriously injured when we heard the terrible news and later he died in the hospital.
Short after his death, my mother ran away with another man who lived in our village. There after my uncle had to look after me. One day he gave me to a rich house keeper in city as a servant. They paid my uncle fifteen thousand ruppees and agree to keep as a servant. The head of the family was a very rough man who often get very angry. His wife is also unkind, cruel women. She ordered me to live in a tiny dark room inside that large home. Since then I had to wake up in 4.00AM and then to work till 10.00PM.I have to do all the work in the house, they order me to wash clothes, clean the house, sweep the floor, clean the garden and clean the plates. When I eat my breakfast, it is 10.00 AM every morning. I only get to eat the rice that had left the previous night with little fish curry. Then I have to clean the garden, cut off the grasses. I also have to look after the children of my master.
At 3.00PM,i can have my lunch. I also have to go to the shop and bring what my master needs. Some days I have to go to shop more than ten times. In a night my whole body begins to suffer of the pain. But this unkind women (my master's wife) orders me to do more work.
Sometimes she hits me with a strong stick. On the last Sunday, she burnt my legs to punish me because I was ill and was not able to do work. They all use me as a bull who works all over the day.
N.D Jayarathna
In this developing world,
Children are the pearls,
Who would grow up with skills,
To rule the rotating world.
In order to protect them,
From the wicked society,
They must be brought
To work using the power of thought.
The power of taught which,
Doesn't come from heredity,
They must be taught,
From sending them to school.
Children with out education,
Will always be isolated from the society,
So what do you think?
Does the children deserve to be isolated.
Do they have to work?
For the money, to supply their needs,
But they later will realize that,
The important thing is missing.
What would it be?
Their golden childhood which,
Was spent in a ditch,
It is to be isolated by the society.
Children must have their rights,
To be educated with the brights,
And build the shadow,
Which will be the protector for them.
So what do you think now?
Does the children belong to child labour,
Or they should have rights,
Let's banish this child labour.
Tharindu Palihanadana
I am eight and little,
But many heavy works to do,
Get up and down,
Finish all works at midnight.
Not a school to go,
No any kind words,
Or a nice look at me,
I don't know that
Where my father and mother are?
Masters are watching the TV,
At the evening,
But I am washing plates,
With not a second's rest.
But no one is there,
To listen my sorrow,
With out you!
Thilina Perera
The young little creature,
Who works in a coal mine,
Is covered with dust and smoke.
He wakes up at four,
Begins his day with sleepy eyes,
No rest, No happy or No play time,
But ten minutes for lunch,
Working and working till eight,
Then sleep, but not on a bed,
He has no childhood.
" THE CHILD LABOUR " The menace for humanity!
Venusha Tharinda