The *** in his hand starts to move
To till the soil, he shoves and shoves
He doesn’t care the weight of the world
He thinks of you, he produces food.

He worked silently under the scorching sun
With no complains, heavy works in hand
He perspires so much that glitters in his head
That forms like that of precious beads.

Seems underrated in the midst of life
He has to work beyond his sight
His work is a precious reason
To nourish you, a generation be born.

His unconditional love to the people
Beyond of his measured goal
His heart is as vast as the sea
Made us survive day by day.

Unsung hero, redefined the word fought
His work was not as much they thought
Without his life, the world will doom
The world may seem an empty room.