Lament of a Working Mother

My Darling, my daughter, my life
	you are everything to me.
You are my joy, my happiness, my existence
	my sorrow, my pain, my agony.
Working dawn 'till dusk, day in, day out.
Bringing home the means
    with which to clothe and feed you,
    giving my all to give you all.
Oh God, how loving you makes me hate--
      hate life for its unfairness,
        hate God for giving me you, yet
	   forcing me to stay away,
          hate my country for making living so hard,
	hate myself for not being a mother to you.
     I'm a stranger you call, "Mama",
	too tired to play, or dance, or sing or nurture.
There are very few things I regret in life,
	I regret not being with you.