THE GAME

The sky is so bleak, it shrieks with falling planes that fall in the cold rain

I look below me and see the chaos, thousands of men charging into the fray

I can only look down for a moment as I must stay alert in the skies

I Skim the horizon and look for my enemy, my eyes catch his

Like a flash of lighting I see his machine guns open fire (simile)

They are a pear of scissors as they cut through my canvas wings (metaphor)

I cannot stray from my duty: Protect the infantry

I push the stick hard down, my nose is pointing to the ground

I hear the sounds of combat the bullets whistling like my former drill sergeant (personification)

I can see the faces of soldiers looking up I come screaming towards them

They cover their heads and duck; I then begin to pull up…

Soon I am pointing straight at the enemy; I close my eyes and squeeze the trigger

The sound of my machine guns bring me back to reality, I open my eyes

I only see the anguish as my bullets shred through dozens of soldiers

However a Fokker is on my tail and I take to the skies once again

To once again play this deadly game the game of war…

Child Labor

Boy do I hate my job, my name is Joshua Harris and I am a child laborer; I work at a coal mine.  When I do sleep I am often thinking of my (former) home. You see it wasn't always like this... My family was grate.... Papa had a job as a miner and Mamma made the best food in the world; we had a nice house with a small garden that I remember playing around in! But what I miss most about my life back home is school, I loved my friends and missus Laker (teacher) I wasn't the brightest but I tried. However all that changed when Pa died. Mamma never did tell us how but whispers in the town say he died in some explosion in the mine.  Shortly after that’s my mom couldn't pay for my schooling and I was removed from my 5th grade class.  Things quickly went from bad to worse...

My mom could no longer afford the hose we were living in and so we moved to New York City. My dad used to tell me that it was a great city where anyone can become anything and everyone was a star! Sure didn't seem like it as my mom and me had to move in a small tenement. It was OK for a while but we were strapped for cash and my mom couldn't make ends meet. She went off and got job as a weaver but still it was tuff. Finally one day I saw my mom starving so I could eat...I then had enough I decided to work, I did the only work I knew mining. I had been with my dad a few times down in the mine before and I thought I would do well. 

So against my mothers wishes each day I walked to the mine, my journey started at approximately 4 in the morning it took me 2 hours to get to the mine. Once I reached there I was a hurrier (someone who pulls the mine carts) all day long I had to push and pull the heavy carts, they were often in excess of 500 pounds! Now I’m not saying I’m weak but you just try pulling one of those things by yourself! Often times while working I would have to wear a harness so that I could pull the weight, it was so humiliating I felt like an animal! They gave us a 30 minute "lunch break" at 5:00 during this time is when I made new friends and occasionally enemies.  The day would finally end at 9:00 at which point I would begin the 2-hour journey home, alone and in the dark.  When I reached home I just had some soup my mom made and then collapsed on the bed into a slumber. The slumber never lasted as long as it should with this process repeating daily! People often ask me why I endure the conditions I do, sometimes I just don’t answer...I mean what would you do? Would you just sit idly by and watch your mother starve? For me my job means keeping my mother alive!

Still I have to admit it’s a pretty lousy place to work...Its always dark and you have to crouch everywhere! Black soot and coal is always covering my face and hands, sometimes it gets down in my throat and makes it hard to breathe. I’m one of the lucky ones...some of my pal's have this thing called asthma which makes it really hard for them to breathe! In addition to the health hazards I face the prospect of death daily, at any moments something could combust and I’d be blown to smithies! Not to mention the fact that the cave could collapse and there would be no need to make funeral arrangements cause I’d never come out of that coffin! Still like I said earlier the dollar I earn each day is worth it if it helps out my mother!

But despite the bleak prospect I've given you, I've actually had it allot better than some of these other blokes... I know a whole bunch of my fiends who cant work anymore because they were maimed or their lungs get so black with soot they just cant breathe anymore! Because of these things though there is talk that the government wont let this happen to kids like me... Apparently they passed the 1833 Althorn factory act which says that because I’m under 13 I cannot work for more than 49 hours a week! Hopefully though the foreman hears of this soon because I am really tired........ and all this for a meager 40 cents a day! I guess I can only hope for better days....


                                                         HERE I AM!