Manas And The Matchstick Factory Poem by Jananie Balaji

Soft little hands that ought to caress books
And 13-year-olds who ought to admire their looks
They worked at the factory, a day 9 hours long
Like robots not even to occasionally stop for a song!

They played with the chemicals on their fingertips
When children licked theirs for Choco dips!
They worked so hard for just three small bowls of rice
Served not with love but customary despise!

One night little Manas jumped over the fence
Awestruck at the open air and folk chatter thence
Ignorant of the world's dangers and their degree,
Enjoying each second of his sweet liberty!

I must save Ahmed, Meenu and Sarah too!
Determined, he walked on but what could he do?
And lo! He awoke at dawn at a lady's gentle tug
He sat up on the mattress beside her milk jug.

The child poured out his story of their fiery factory life
Of how matchsticks and crackers were their life's biggest strife!
Every minute detail to his saviour he told
On how targets and illnesses increased manifold!

So here is my little song pouring out his tale
Let's all join hands against this terrible gale
To love, to educate and make their dreams come true
For their rainbows to find their pots of gold too!