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#Oath_of_a_breadwinner
See these bruises on my knees, feel the pain on my back, my salty skin from both sweat and blood, soaking my skin pale. This dilapidating strength in my bones, my body tattooed with scabs and scars from thriving daily to serve those I call my own. The clots in my veins from steel hammering, these scratched and rough fingers nails, my daily meal has carved.

Took an oath, to shed my last breath on the streets, fighting for crumbs, less I bring nothing back to the table, until my body shed it's last, for I have mouths waiting to be fed at home. In my bed every night a lay restless, planing and hoping for my next tap. , to atleast come back not empty handed to my house, for the pain and groaning sounds of those I hustle for, makes me to never wanna sleep ever, to wake on the street no matter how small the pay, hence I'm forever in the streets, upon my oath

My tattered clothes, shriveled shoe soles, my oath is to put food on the table, not to look clean, what's cleanless to a man with mouths to feed, when life chose it's fate for him? Someone said "sleep is for the rich" but I live to thrive, I mean I thrive to live, my oath binds me to

I'm a breadwinner, In this current world, which bread is to be won, when doors are shut daily to my face, what bread is there to win, when I'm asked of work experience and qualifications, which life never gave glimpse to breath and acquire, when at every chance it had of me, was making sure I thrive, I fight for survival not to better myself nor equip me for such? What bread is there to win, when all has taught me was slave to survive, odd jobs, bad treatment from employees, having no luxury of taking lunchbox to work, for nothing in this life was brought to me on silver platter, let alone a silver spoon in my mouth, took an oath to be a breadwinner

My oath has no assurance, no 13th checks, no guarantees that if I sleep, I might wake up the next day and everything will be alright, I limp every day with the little hope, in the dark, that at least only if I get something to lay on the table for the day. I'm not sure if this body due to exhaustion and fatigue, I won't go to the street and fall on the roadside and no one might notice me, nor maybe go to bed and never wake up again, my oath remains, to be a breadwinner.
Poetic_Ink
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