Sometimes it’s hard, the life of a women.
It seems so impossible but instead it’s so common.
Sometimes it’s hard to be a mother.
Thinking of safety, yours and these of other.
Sometimes it’s hard to be a wife.
A husbands words can be as sharp as a knife.
But what is it that keeps us going?
Because sometimes it’s always wrong what you are doing.
Why, sometimes, we have to cry,
Even though some things we hide …… we try.
When we meet someone nice
Luck is just another roll of the dice.
When we have lovely children
So many things seems to be forbidden.
When our husband grow old
Their love is like ice …. Just as cold.
When children grow into adults
We knit booties and quilts.
Why does it feel so hard: the life of a women?
Why does it seems so impossible when instead it is so common?