Hedonist
A thorn in the bushes they beat around
Siphoning the blood of their cattle
To paint Starry Nights and diamonds in their skies
No regard for who dies
Alluring alliances carved in gold,
Lead you to the edge of a mountain,
Whereupon you isolated them to their own
Echoing pleas, ignored forevermore
The rivers you bled dry
Clinking glasses of wine laced with a copper taste
The rivers you've refilled with the blood
Of sheep that your wolves tore apart
Your friends console you
Claims of a Denmark-like haven
Yet you've sold their meadows of greenery
Pull the wool over their eyes
Shield them from the scorching truth
Toil them to weave your socialites' cotton shirts
Lead them to sleep in the dark age
With bright promises for their children
The love which you comprehend and exploit
Building decked halls on their backs
Alas, but it's part of decorum.
Ariana Basher is 13 years old, studying in grade 8 in International School Manila. She wrote this poem during a family visit to United Arab Emirates after seeing the sufferings of Bangladeshi workers there.
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