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Glazing eyes and hungry cries will soon
say goodbye to their oldest child.
Alluring her with gifts and plastic smiles.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                Her family will now eat on the promises of lies.
 

Insanity spits in humanity’s eyes.
Filled with false hope for the sake of their child,
a nine year old girl ties her pretty new shoes,
then takes the hand of this devil in a suit.
 

Confused by the smile on his face, so absolute.
As they walk away into a world so vile and depraved.
She looks back at her mother, trying to remember her face.
This precious, once wild eyed child,
 

Finds herself in a world of pain, so defiled.
Killing that gentle soul,  dealing with devil hands taking its toll.
Molding her dreams of freedom, to cold derision.
Crying inside about her parents decision.
 

Wishing they would come, and take her home.
Feeling the cruel eyes burning through, all alone.
As she is forced to sewing a countless number of things.
Twenty hour days and two minute breaks,
 

Just enough time to breath in, and give those little hands a shake.
As the ringing of the machines is all she now hears.
Sleeping in fear of devils on the prowl of her and her peers.
Safety not a word known by her any more,
 

Thinking to herself,  "I don't want to live anymore."
The world wears the jeans, rings, belts and things,
she made countless times with her tiny little fingers.
Demanding race of nameless faces, hording her spirit,
 

Buying jeans for more then she'll ever see in her life.
Plastic smiles are as killing as a sharp edged knife.
No one at all, to hold her hand, to let her know,
she's still alive, she still matters the most.
 

Has humanity forgotten these children, who are ghosts.
Every year, lives are taken away and sold like a trophy.
You devils beware, you do not want to know me.
Gods of industry, you better pray you never see me.
 

I'll burn you alive at the stake of your sins.
Crush you like the viscous maggots you are.
Bury you alive in that hundred-thousand dollar car.
I'll free all the children taken as a slave.
 

I'll try to save them all, before I'm in the grave.
Take them all by the hand, let them understand,  they are not forgotten by me
Give them back their precious freedom.
I would, if I could, take them all back to their homes
 

Write each, and everyone of them a poem.
Make amends for the hurt they did to them.
All human beings are not that cruel and depraved.
Someone better do something now, they need to be saved.