A woman
A woman
who struggle through sun to moon
Who has million, trillion children
She doesn"t know none of them
Her mother were killed and buried under her bed silently.
Her skin turns all fumbled like a skin of a fish
On ploiding their farms in the hot sun.
A woman
who struggle through morning to night
With no voices.
The moon rises, the sun set
Her heart was under her foot
Standing in the crownd
Praying she's not next in the line
Hey, man.
What do you think you doing with these woman rights
She cried
They cried
But, it was already too late
The lynch was already prepare.