Hello Dearest,

I am indeed in need.
To perform a good deed.
To give my family a feed.
I am not a farmer with seed.
I don’t have a hand that’s freed.
Even a land covered with ****.
This life tastes like bitterweed.
Some days we feel like eating a winter feed.
With a material burning like in  gleed.
And that has been difficult for greed.
So we want our lives to be so glaceed.
If we fasten our stomach so speed.
So we beheld, and our hands kneed.
Touching your feet with a feeling of creed.
To upkeep those who are dreed.