The farm, a battleground of toil and strife,
Where farmers labor, their sweat and life.
Not a playground, but a field of pain,
Where every harvest is earned, not gained.

The father of our nation, the farmer true,
Their hard work feeds us, through and through.
But now, chemicals burn, and veggies decay,
Leaving us wondering, "Is purity lost today?"

Our forebears tilled the land with care,
Coaxing life from earth, with love to share.
Their methods pure, their hearts aflame,
Their legacy, a healthier, nobler claim.

But today, we see a different sight,
Chemicals ruling, day and endless night.
The land cries out, the people too,
"Where's the purity, we once knew?"

Let's honor farmers, their struggles and might,
Their hard work, our daily bread's light.
Let's seek the old ways, the natural path,
For a healthier tomorrow, and a brighter math.

Respect to farmers, we owe this debt,
For their tireless toil, our daily bread.
Let's cherish their labor, their love for the land,
And strive for purity, hand in hand.
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