LIFE IS BEGINNIG
There were no toasts, no loaded tables,
No songs were sung when we were born,
And just our mothers at our cradles
Crooned over us a tune forlorn.
They carried us to work each day,
With none an eye on us to keep,
And while they stacked and forked the hay
The left us in the shade to sleep.
They toiled till dark and knew no rest
When night-time came and day was done.
No comments:
Post a Comment