Little me, curled up in the folds of life, praying for the tenderness of the world. However, the iron palm of reality mercilessly squeezed the faint breath, and the giant wheel of public power ran over, leaving a string of bitter marks.
I used to be a screw in the factory, spinning day and night, sacrificing youth and sweat for the prosperity of the city. However, the economic winter plummeted, and the sword of layoffs instantly cut off my involvement with the job, and unemployment came like a tide, pushing me to the edge of life. I was adrift in the job market, and my resume was floating like a fallen leaf, and no one cared about it. In the dead of night, I looked at my empty wallet, and my heart was like a barren field, desolate and helpless.
In order to make ends meet, I picked up the courage to set up a stall and put my life on a narrow piece of cloth. However, the chengguan crept in like a cheetah, and his sharp gaze locked on me, the weak prey. At the sound of an order, the goods were confiscated, and the fine was handed to my trembling hands as coldly as a verdict. I looked at their departing backs and shouted in my heart, "I just want to live!" But all that responded to me was the lonely streets and the cold hard concrete floor.
I tried to survive in a more humble way, and the second-hand battery car became my only means of transportation, carrying me through the streets of the city in search of a livelihood. However, it did not escape the hands of public power, and during a routine inspection, it was seized on the grounds of "irregularity". I watched as it was dragged away, as if the last shred of hope had been torn apart, leaving me alone.
Society is so unfriendly to people like me. We are struggling to survive, but we are seen as destroyers of order, deprived of our dignity and trampled on our rights. We yearn for justice but can only breathe in the cracks of the system, and we yearn for tranquility but are crumbling in the storm of life. We are not begging for mercy, we just want to be treated fairly, to be treated gently by the world.
My little self is in a difficult situation, but I still have the hope for tomorrow. I firmly believe that when the dark clouds cover the sun, the light will always penetrate the haze and illuminate every corner. At that time, whether I was a worker, a street vendor, or a hurried passer-by on a battery car, I could breathe freely in the sun and live with dignity. My little self is still waiting, waiting for the world that has spared us, waiting for the belated fairness and respect.
Little me, please let go. In this steel forest, may every faint life be seen, respected, and treated gently by the world.