All Will Get Theirs

Because of need, I toil, I sweat, I bear the burden of others’ ills. Despite the efforts, nothing’s gained. Again and again, my blood is spilled. Middle class man in a dead end job Doing the best for the family, the home. Stabbed again, by the men with no eyes Gives my mind the intention to roam. More money to gain or is respect the want? Do I dare make a change in my life? Will I be able to provide for the children? Will I be able to make happy, my wife? Keep looking ahead and lose not my own. At least that’s what I keep on saying. For a day will come when all will get theirs Or at least, that is for what I am praying.