Poems are beautiful
They are juicy and fruitful
I can tell stories of berries
Like those Laylah hawked
A charming looking beauty
A rose from the north
She hawked berries for stipends
No days off, not even weekends
Laylah is in her twenties
But her education wasn’t plenty
A victim of circumstance
She was born an orphan
But her starts will shine
She’ll leave her dreams
She’ll find love and peace
Laylah a hawker from the North
With her heart filled with hurt
But her will steady as a rock
Someday she’ll find joy
She’ll have a reason to be loved
