I gather crops all day
While sweltering in the scorching sun
And all I earn is 5 dollars pay--
Even though I get all my work done.

Kids also work in the fields
And even though they’re younger, they are treated as equals--
We all have to produce the same yields,
And work with the same harsh chemicals

Since we are undocumented- we have no rights
So when we are treated with hostility,
We can’t pick any fights
Only act with civility.

But soon, we migrant workers will be gone--
If border control continues to try their hardest
And they will have nobody to count on
To retrieve the harvest

You see, they need us to collect their food,
But I guess they just can’t see the greater good.