Farmer

In fields, we toil with feeble might,

No guns, no swords, in our humble fight,

Seeking rights the government denies,

Tears, gas, and water, our silent cries.

Untrained in battle, yet we strive,

Strength within keeps dreams alive,

Glory finds us in the humblest grace,

Breadwinners of the world's vast space.

Capitalist chains, try to bind,

Yet we rise, an unwavering mind,

Our bread we earn, a noble role,

In Earth's embrace, gold takes its toll.

All seasons change their hue,

Still, we work, our purpose true,

Heads bowed, hands toiled, our worth defined,

In soil and toil, our legacy is enshrined.