In her tousled hair
And a sorrowful garment worn
She sings along the farm trail
In barefooted, shivering in cold
She runs for a refuge under a tree
As it started raining.
Just like the rain
Her tears reign
And like the tree with its scattered branches
Her thoughts spread.
Her mind wanders like a homeless child,
Moving along streets;
Up the hill, is a mountain unsafe
Down the valley, are tunnels of sorrow
In the gathering of her thoughts
Are abundant of agenda
Like in a trance,
The wails of her desolate kids at home,
Yawning for food stings
Arousing the mother in her
But darkness already set at her awake
It still rain, and the farm path threatens
Back to home, a mission forgone
With her children, she dines of her own tears.
