Tough

She trekked through the tall thick grass

Not knowing it was made glass

As the feeling to her limbs had been numb for years

Countless hours heaving Mother’s weight

Her youth needy

And the palms of the greedy itching for their dues 

So she pressed on

aches turned trivial overtime 

to a shelterless comparison

A frigid cold night on a bench in former years warned her well

So each day she trekked through the tall thick grass

Not knowing it was made glass

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