The boots are quite small to fit small feet

They are pulled on before sunrise

Sleep being forsaken, for there is work to do

And being late is out of the question

The boots walked along the well-worn track

To the place of noise and danger

For another day of clearing cotton fluff

Dodging the scary machinery that could crush her in a second

The dirt and smell sometimes making her retch

And yet she was grateful for the work

It kept her from the workhouse and that was enough

Enough to stop her from complaining

When her work was finished for the day

And she pulled off her boots for bed

She dared to dream…

Although she was only ten years’ old

She dreamed that if she ever had children of her own

That they would never have to follow in her footsteps

And work in the mill

 

Dean Fraser - The Quantum Poet (www.deanfrasercentral.com