Why Do We Steal Their Childhood?

Why Do We Steal Their Childhood?

Why do we steal their childhood away,

When all they want is to simply play?

To live a moment pure and free,

Where worry fades, and hearts run free.

A time when fears do not exist,

When laughter rises, clouds resist,

A world untouched by pain or plight,

A gentle dawn, a soft sunlight.

Because above their heads no hand,

To hold them firm, to understand.

Alone, they stand—no one to guide,

No friend or guardian by their side.

We have snatched their childhood, stolen dreams,

Their laughter hushed, their hopeful schemes.

Their toys, once bright, now lost to time,

Their innocence, a silent crime.

That childhood meant for books and pens,

For stories told and growing friends,

We forced to labor, toiling hard,

Where youthful joys are barred.

In place of pencils, tools they clutch,

Hands roughened by the work they touch.

Into the heat that makes us freeze,

We thrust them without ease.

The playgrounds where they should have run,

The fields beneath the golden sun,

The dolls and trains they loved to play—

Now distant memories fade away.

Yet still their hearts remember well,

Those games and dreams where magic dwelled.

But hunger’s grip, so cruel, so tight,

Compels them to forsake delight.

Are we not guilty, all of us,

For letting hunger’s chains thus thrust

These children into work and strife,

Dimming the light from their young life?

This cruelty must end today,

Their stolen youth returned, we say.

We must rebuild, restore, repair,

And show them love, protect with care.

Let children be just children still,

With time to laugh, to climb each hill.

To dream, to hope, to dance and sing—

Let childhood bloom with endless spring.

No more tools, no more heavy loads,

No weary hands on labor roads.

Let school bells ring and stories flow,

And let their inner light all glow.

For childhood is a sacred right,

A beacon glowing pure and bright.

We owe them love, a future free—

Why steal their childhood? Let them be.