The Mill

$2.19 for a day's wage
I work all day risking limbs, barefoot
For what, a loaf of bread and 2 potatoes
Somehow this ain't right
I'm ready to get married, have babies
You tell me, how am I supposed to find a husband
No time but Sunday to talk a man
I dream of marrying a preacher
Of course, I'd still be poor
But, people would look up to me
Want to shake my hand
Not look at me as if I were a discarded piece of thread
Two days ago
A little girl came into the mill
She was so tiny, she looked like a doll
All smiles
I wish she were mine to dress up
She died that day
Something went wrong
No one cried, not then anyway
Everyday I pray to make it to Sunday
The only day I got no fear