This room is silent
except for the whir of the sewing machine
and the weeping of a child
a child with a broken dream.
This room has no space
for this heart broken
hoping for love and happiness
stuck in this closed-in room.
She had dreams,
this girl,
of filling a life with memories
and learning lessons of life.
But she is stuck,
in this room
where broken hearts
and crushed dreams
pile up.
She is stuck,
in this room,
that seems to be closing in
jaws on each wall snapping.
But no matter
how much she cries
or how much she pleads
no one will come.
For this room
is the room
where children cry
the
sweatshop.
