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Poem

Labor Pains

An old story has been told,
from which a lesson unfolds

The owner of capital and workers agree.
The wages are clear, and no one works for free

The sand of time slowly drops in the hour glass.
As now, so in olden days, society was not without class

Late comers strolled along, wishing to be hired.
Early workers raised their eyes, curious and tired.

New hires started to work, late into the day.
Before long, it’s time for all to receive their pay

The last hires were paid first, and sent on their way.
In short order, the first hires were filled with dismay

All who worked that day received the same amount.
The longer hours worked by some did not count

Claims of unfairness were uttered, and a labor dispute ensues.
They cry, “We labored longer and are denied our just dues!”

Their employer insists, “I have done you no wrong!”;
Can I not do as I wish with what is my own?”

From then until now, whether right or wrong,
The drum beats of labor goes on and on.

Labor laws have changed, but humans are essentially the same.
Both the weak and the strong are causing each other pain.

From the sunny sands of California to the coast of Maine,
As long as mortals endure, questions of capital and labor shall remain

But a day will come, of final reckoning, when all disputes will be resolved.
Until then, may we  thrive with grace and civility, our problems to solve.
09052016 cj PS; A poem about 'Labor". Happy Labor Day.

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