Poetry: Son of soil
A brief introduction about my poetry. Son of soil is a farmer who labours to toil the soil day and night just to feed the people. The hustle, pain and most of all the happiness the process entails. This is dedicated to all farmers across the globe. Do enjoy!
Son of soil...
with dripping sweat, the earth we toil;
Hand tattooed by thorns
Just for men to reap corns.
Son of soil, deep we dig
to make compost of animals like pig.
As we're fried by the sun
Rain and wind simultaneously takes turn.
Son of soil, with zero tillage
we must plough the soil till we age.
Climate and pest we endure
In herbs that grow, we find a cure
Son of soil, on plants we feed
one day become the manure they need.
Tooth for tooth and eye for an eye
Someday, son of soil in it you lie.
Son of soil...
with dripping sweat, the earth we toil;
Hand tattooed by thorns
Just for men to reap corns.
Son of soil, deep we dig
to make compost of animals like pig.
As we're fried by the sun
Rain and wind simultaneously takes turn.
Son of soil, with zero tillage
we must plough the soil till we age.
Climate and pest we endure
In herbs that grow, we find a cure
Son of soil, on plants we feed
one day become the manure they need.
Tooth for tooth and eye for an eye
Someday, son of soil in it you lie.
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STOPFarmers; man oldest occupation. Nice work @humbledeen
You the boss... Thanks man