(On Child Labor & Exploitation in Mining)

Beneath the ground where echoes fade,
Small hands are bound in dust and shade.
Their fingers claw through rock and vein,
For silver dreams and phantom gain.

The earth weeps deep, the tunnels moan,
Yet still they dig through flesh and bone.
For screens must glow, for wealth must rise,
Yet none will hear the children’s cries.

The sun still shines, but not for them,
They labor deep in shadows dim.
Their childhood sold for circuits bright,
Their innocence consumed by night.

Yet who will speak? Yet who will see?
Their toil fuels all—yet none are free.
The gold we touch, the gems we crave,
Are carved by hands now lost to graves.

One day the mines will gasp for breath,
The chains will break, the dust of death.
But will the world still count the cost,
When all is gained, but souls are lost?