Is It Really Worker's Day

I push and pull like a challenged bull. At work they call me fool they use me like a tool. They say hard work pays but still my salary delays and this hurts imagine I even pay tax. I work everyday but they don't listen to what I say. I work until I sweat but still peanuts I get. I have children they are many, eleven. They attend school things are not so cool. Before I sleep, I cry praying; for my salary to be high so that grocery I may buy for my children to eat a pie. When things go tough all my friends laugh as if it's funny when I do not have money. Today's it's Worker's Day and yet I complain as if I am insane due to this pain that cause my eyes-rain. My job I want to quit because I am no longer fit due to how they treat how they-me illtreat. Drencho POET Loads