Sweeping dust in the factory

coughing out pollution casually

making shoes for kids in the west

each hour getting paid ten cents

there is a woman in somalia

each day she faces insomnia

working hard for a life she never picked

losing sleep to work long hard shifts

she takes a long look in the mirror

and finds the strength to persevere

this isn't the life she chose but has to face

she is forced to stay for she cannot escape

asking herself does she deserve this

She looks at the women on TV that seem perfect

and asks god why she feels so under blessed

She dreads to take another step out of bed

The dirty rubble in her eyes fogs her as she walks down the dirt road

a 20 minute journey to the factory is where she must go

to make ten cent an hour for 12 hours in order to eat plain rice and afford a mud hut

while she compares her life to a women in America who have, purses and phones and a lot of stuff