Boots hit dirt, sunrise on my sleeve,

Sowing seeds underground with dreams I weave.

Scarecrow's posted, watching fields breathe,

Corn talk whispers what the soil believes.

Plow through struggles, harvest the grind,

Milk the system, but cows stay divine.

Hands stained earthy, roots intertwined,

Every day's a hustle when the sun aligns.

Hay bales stacked like bricks in a scheme,

Pitchfork holding court, got the barnyard gleam.

Chickens plotting, eggs crackin’ the code,

Ducks move slick, real smooth on the road.

Dirt in my nails, kingdom under my care,

Rich black gold, wealth hiding there.

Sky pours blessings, thunder’s affair,

Rain dances drop in my farmer's prayer.

Plow through struggles, harvest the grind,

Milk the system, but cows stay divine.

Hands stained earthy, roots intertwined,

Every day's a hustle when the sun aligns.

Tools heavy, but the purpose supreme,

Green thumb magic turning dirt to a dream.

Tomatoes red like blood in the seams,

Life springs up—watch the nature team.