A Woman In A Very Hostile Land Poem by S. J. Fulton

She’s eighteen, she gets married,
Up till then life was varied,
But that’s how life goes as far as she knows,
A woman in a very hostile land.

Same old thing, life is boring,
Do the wash, clean the flooring,
Then he grabs his hat, walks out, leaves her flat—
A woman in a very hostile land.

Waitressing and working in a big store,
On her feet all day from six to five,
Working for the boss is such a big bore,
But somehow you’ve just got to stay alive.

She can’t work—she’s not lazy,
She’s a wreck, going crazy;
She’s walking the road, hauling a load,
A woman in a very hostile land.

Can’t buy food, has no carfare,
Got no choice, goes on welfare.
She’s taking the blame, it’s always the same,
A woman in a very hostile land.

Meets a man, she thinks he’s such a nice guy,
And he’s from a better part of town.
She is so relieved, she heaves a big sigh
And they stand up before old Parson Brown.

After while, there’s a baby,
And he’s found a new lady.
Although she may grieve
Now she’s got to leave—
A woman in a very hostile land.