Life of an Artisnal Miner
Their hearts were filled with sorrows
Eyes with tears had become bit narrow
Looking at them I was completely fused
How could they live their life and what have they choosed
Those children's were less than Seven,
But they lived in Hell and didn't knew anything about Heaven
Springs of tear were rolling down his eyes
Hungry, tired was he trying to eat those flies
Terrible, disheartened my heart wanted to ask
Is this a punishment for them or a harsh task
Artisnal miners were they scratching for mineral
Buried sometimes during work with no funeral
This is what the agony of life
For each and every bread you have to strife
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