Sweatdrops of a Suffering Civil Servant

one by one, drop by drop they fall. squinting faces,the civil sevant they call. "worker of the nation",the toiler backstage. sweat no more,now blood runs down the faces, a corrupt nation,like wrongly tied shoe laces; citizens search for light,like digging through cemented ground in search of water, surely there are cries, cries in the sweat of the civil sevant, cries of unseen hope also of sweet pain...a pain which never ends.