As she struggles to provide for more.
As she is the only one who does it best for me.
She believed I deceived it all even more
Yet she craved no sort of fame for this hard labour game.
But my perspective of this working game is that nobody left without becoming a working slave.
Yet her night shift is her dieshift nobody gets by shifts this is just some tired shifts.
This was her way to get an extra pay for the day.
This is the smell of a sweat working day.
At least that is what she says.N.Eksteen
YOU ARE READING
They Pray For Me
PoetryThe fear of sleep with knowing there is something in the dark