Heres a single mom.
Who struggles with the flow of life.
That slowly eats her soul.
Turning tricks before the pole.
To bring home food for her world.
The seed giver stays hidden.
As she stays working.
Worrying if she'll make it.
Back to what makes her whole.
Heres a single mom.
Whos world matters more then her own.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem