A Poem For Workers

Down here in the basement,
There no time for fun or games. 
Down here in the basement,
Survival is the name of the game.
No time to ponder space or rhyme 
Or any foolish contraptions of the mind.
For when the ganger shouts,
"Move your asses" 
We have a ton of concrete to lay.
With broken backs,
We curse our fate
And pay our dues to the human race. 








Ganger (Irish slang for foreman)
Copyright © | Year Posted 2015

Poem

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Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace