The deafening roar of metal beasts greets me every day, As the fac? try doors I open wide, Remembrin? what my mother always used to say, I slowly saddened make my way inside. I take my place along the line, as routine as can be, Retrieve my needle and my off white thread, Felling trapped, wishing to live free, While questions, ? why? , ?? what if? , ? soar through my head.? You go out there and do your stuff, ? Mom told me every morn? She smiled proudly, then she? d hug me tight.? Don? t be late, and come right home, ? she? d warn, Then wave till I had vanished out of sight.
Not once did I forget about my mother back at home, And I cared for both my sisters with my heart, But I was forced to work, I couldn? t leave, I couldn? t roam, Until that whistle blew, then home I? d dart. Running, ? sprint in, ? homeward bound, a grin across my face. Finally, I? m home, but out of breath. I sat there gasping loudly, from such a grueling pace.? How much? How much?? came from my sister, Beth.
From my pocket I? d pull some coins, and jingle them around, And get a giggle, from my sister, Paige. I held out my hand, there was no sound, As I anxiously added up the wage. My mother's face would glow with pride, she? d kiss me o? er my brow, And hug my sisters closely while she said, ? Your brother's brought home one more one more dollar, now, I? ll go to town and fetch a loaf of bread.? Back at work, the days grew longer, painful, every one, As each machine would thunder out its tune. I grew weary, but stayed a faithful son, Thinking, saying, ?
I? ll be back home soon.? But unsanitary filth engulfed my lonesome soul, A dusty atmosphere of grime and dirt. My strength and health became a daily toll And with each hour, my tired fingers hurt. My only friends are my needle, and the thread I use, Hastily, another stitch I sew Upon a young boy's pair of running shoes, Who lives a life that I will never know.