The story of her life

She wipes the sweat from the brow,
her hands suffer everyday blow,
She smiles through pain,
and hopes to bargain
a life better for her children,
a pucca house,
a caring spouse.

Life can never be simple
when money as little
flows just as a trickle
slipping into crevices in mockery;
a debris of unending poverty

Tides of sorrow rise in count
sprinkling little joys, as pittance.
Seeking the shore, hopes surmount
only to break in an even dance

A happy home is all she wants,
but is far from what she gets
Mind and body sport several scars
given by the mister, a rouge above par

The house crumbles under, 
when children too move afar
all the trouble now seem in vain
for alas! she lost the bargain.