Soil

I am the soil,

Watered with the sweat

Of a humble man,

Who toiled to make the meal.

I am the soil,

Greened with the tears

Of a loyal man,

Who toiled to make the meal.

I am the soil,

Reddened with the blood

Of an honest man,

Who toiled to make the meal.

Soil am I,

Garbage of placards now;

Which railed for the rights

Of the man who toiled to make you eat.

Soil am I,

Witness of pain;

Who saw the battle of survival

By the man who toiled to make you eat.

Soil am I,

A graveyard of crops engraved;

For the man who toiled to make you eat.