A Thought for Labor Day
Is man but a workhorse
to be slowly ground to death
To slice his limbs to ribbons
on a slaughterhouse machine
To breathe in sewer muck and mire
or hurl on tractor-trailers never-ending tires
To toil in anonymity on a thankless assembly line
or inhale the toxic fumes of an Appalachian coal mine…
Young man, learn a skilled trade or train for a profession
Life does not have to be misery and depression
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
