Salt of the earth

by Claudia Rey

We are not made of delicate china
nor fragile, transparent glass.
We give birth and witness death
we love – sometimes for no reason -
and we cry - often alone.
But we go on living,
hands hardened by work,
souls toughened against pain,
hearts bleeding nonetheless.
Invisible and forgotten,
beaten, abused, killed
but resisting:
still strong, still there.
We, the salt of the earth
we, the women of the world.