A Labourer With A Pen

Deep down that road,

I can see a villa,

You seem so quench

Next to your buds and lady

Your slumberous face and voice so drowsy

You get up the next morning very chuffed and proud

For your chap has spoken gutsy in a crowd

You blare everywhere with felicity quite loud,

Your chap can write makes you feel over the cloud

Your chap speaks well, your eyes go bright

Your chap attains mastery, outta a excitement, you can't sleep at night

Have you ever thought whose pain was that?

Have you ever thought who brought him to this place?

Have you ever envisaged when you were dreaming brighter days

A creature sat in a prosaic room

And checked those bundle notebooks

With her hands hideous and red

She kept on working, forgot to go to bed

With worn out eyes and pale face

She taught your son, how to read and write

She neglected her buds for your errant child

She worked like a labourer just to earn some bucks

She lost her friends while counselling your ones

She could choose to be dependent on men

But she culled to be an educator in a den

No! You dare not call her a teacher...!

She is a labourer with a pen...!!