To Charity Chenai

She wakes up early in the morning every day Comes back at night worn, that I could say, A bank account she keeps just for the kicks For each time the little money she picks Evaporates out of her hands Finding solutions to problems, as many there are sands. It is all survival, just for you to breathe, Or your lips could look like they've been under bleach. She takes care of a vast family tree, Hard working as she is as a bee: She watched her sisters grow under her care Whose children could possibly be walking with bellies bare. For her brothers she had an unending love The other died and he went above, Leaving behind his two young boys, They float on her love like buoys; You could never dream they are bastards Her own children are a cut above the rest In simpler terms the very best. Yet this woman never seems to tire, In her heart she has a burning love fire; It keeps her going, and on she goes: Does God ever bless people? Will he bless this woman And all those in the world like her?