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.