Weary to the bone,

Weary to the bone,

Head hung low,

Spine twisted

With the weight of life.

She sang,

Low and sweet.

Gospel mainly,

Old words

That lifted her spirits

As she worked.

Hard times

Never changed

They were just different.

Hard work

Never hurt before.

But she carried the pain

Of feeling less than

She set out to be.

She stood taller then,

Than now.

Head held high,

Voice soaring,

With hope of tomorrow

And songs of freedom.

She believed

Everything would change.

The world

Would be a better place.

But that did not

Come to pass.

Still, she fought

For every single inch.

Every penny pinched.

Stood face to face

With the world,

And always found time

To sing.

As she worked

Her life away

In the hope

A better day,

Would come her way,

Tomorrow.