The hard life

I remember well the agony
My swollen feet as tortured as the Christ
How could I think well when this struck me?

The boss was never prone to Charity.
Unlike Jesus I would never rise
I  remember well that agony

My mind was absent I could barely see.
I could not get away unless I died
How could I think well when this struck me?

I laughed when I read that all men are free.
They did not know that everyone will lie
I remember formless agony

I should have crawled away,I could not be
Why did I not find a better guide
How could I think well when this struck me?

How did I exist as murdered bride
The  spear invisible in my own side.
I think that most good people would agree
The world was never made for folk like me

I welcome comments and criticism

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