The hand that rocks the cradle

The Winter’s air cannot chill you love,

For you were born to me

So bear the cold, till days improve

Wait, wait patiently.

My arms are weak from daily toil

Yet rest is forbidden now.

From labour and sweat I cannot recoil

For I must see you grow.

So lie under this tree , where I can watch

While I carry these bricks and sand .

I’ll wrap you in these rags or a cold you’ll catch

Hush! don’t cry, for I’m near at hand.

Perhapsthe future will be more benign

Perhaps our sweat will speak

And our lives will be free from hunger and pain

Till then your patience keep.

Till then, dear child, brave this chilly wind

Leaving you now , I must go.

Against whom or how, we have sinned

I just can’t fathom now.

Doomed am I to this fate

But you must grow and discern

Why some have delicacies heaped on their plates

While some for bread crumbs yearn.

P.S The images used in this post were taken from the internet.