The Will To Go On... (English Sonnet)
Oh, weary bodies knelt on dirt to pray
as night reminds them of the work at hand.
In search of strength to trek another day;
with aching backs again bent over land.
The fields are empty as they travel far,
the farmers buckle one by one from loss.
Oh, all are wishing on the same poor star,
as each continues bearing their own cross.
Though barren breezes dry their hopeless tears
and dusty winds still burn their jaded eyes.
They are not blinded by their troubled fears
and know that their salvation will arise.
The years of anguish eased with Roosevelt,
a land reborn as the New Deal was dealt.
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