Cotton Fields Of Birmingham Poem by Howard Howie Johnson
Cotton Fields Of Birmingham
In my bibbed overalls
and lunch pale in hand
I stand in a queue with others
waiting for a chance to get a job
and start working for the man
in the cotton fields of Birmingham.
The work may be hard
and the pay maybe low,
but it keeps young mouths fed.
From dawn to dusk I toil,
my back breaking
and muscles aching
working for the man
in the cotton fields of Birmingham.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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4/26/2024 4:04:08 PM # 1.0.0.1119
