Winter Workers
Footsteps crunch the winter’s snow
Cold daylight has yet to dawn
Go they towards where busses go
With hopes of getting on
Huddled there in heavy garb
Snow’s ghosts stare ghastly masks
Casting sneers at who they are
Workers of the working class
Trudging towards another day
In winter’s dark torment
Again and again that way
Their working life is spent
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