Chimney Child

I can tell how old the child is by the buttons on his coat

The more he has done up than the older he is

He stands there holding the brus,h red eyes burning in the wind

Only four feet tall but already a man, supporting, feeding his kin

Climbing up this vertical cave sweeping away the soot

Oh, to be the child with a rocking horse, no work for him.

“I saw him once he was stood there looking straight at me “

Two young boys in the same house but different world’s

The suit he wears is tailor made and ordered by Papa

But our Chimney boy wears what he could find to fit

Even his smile is covered in a black patchwork

His bitter hands demolished by course broken brick

There are many Chimney Kid’s and more to climb

There are many coats to be buttoned up

The privileged child does he know or care?

Running with playful zest through heated rooms and love

Never asking “ who made this fire possible that warms a heart?"

Our Chimney Child has done his job, home now to bathe and breathe