At thirty, I should have been a mother,
But a childless women is what I bother.

Out several gentles have kicked me,
Many have been done to make things be.

Here sit I abandoned and barren,
When all on my head is gray, who will take my burden?

A down to earth wife,
Still childless with the endless stive.

And my eyes seeing baby mothers,
Who do not even want to be mothers.

Frustration has burst my heart,
Ever been dejected since things start.

Never in my hand has a baby cried,
Having tried tirelessly to see baby sleep on my side .

Mates aren't tired to put me on their lips,
As the hope of being a mother creeps.

At least with one to sing and play,
Even if your coming is just a day.

That can quench my sorrow,
Let talkers talk new talks tomorrow.