She awakes at 4 AM,
A product of her I am,
Fire wood on her head,
Her social life is dead,
She forgets her name,
Works hard- stays the same
Just to put food on the table,
Though she too very feeble
Six of us, a slice of bread,
Politicians and their greed,
Eating the apple and the seed,
This is the life we lead
Dying- encircled by crows,
The sweat on our brows,
Burns like the tears in our souls,
The passion of our body’s sores,
They don’t heal, we’re malnourished,
How can one be healthy ever famished?
The tunnel has but a little light
Although, It is not yet in sight,
But one day t'will and we'll heal
When we will never miss a meal.
All it takes are faith and hope,
God’s strength to help us cope,
A lot of Love, determination-
And too, an education.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem