A Poor Mother's Thoughts.

The poor girl collects the firewood Climbs little trees and tries the best A heap of firewood little sticks she makes And ties with a rope and carries home The mother awaits her dear one in anxiety Her expression of fear of safety visible But the situations warrant to send the child She can't afford a modern cooking ware Or a modern cooking gas cylinder and stove They are suffering the hardships of life From dawn to dusk the mother works well But both ends meet some what difficult Not to say her hope of children is so great But hope to give education is bleak.