Short Working Man Poems

am a family man
i don't pick up cans
always beer in hand
everyday i make my way
to my van
am a
HARD WORKING MAN...

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I never seen a man,
like Bill Gates!
he,s a successful man,
but knows what's God,
and praise his name.

He  respect the leaders,
the poor and the rich,
although he's rich
more than i am.


I really love him,
and his principles at large,
because he's the working man,
attracts every one to work like him....

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What Crises

It's Just like always
the rich got richer and the poor got poorer
but soon comes the time for change
when the poor ole working man will take a stand
against the wealthy that own the land
and I'm sure it will happen time and again
at least until the bitter end
my freind
at least until the bitter end...

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You sacraficed you happiness---------FOR
Your family and husband,-------------THE
Intelligent, loving, generous, caring,-- GIVER
I love you, precious-----------------MOTHER
Forgive the---------------------- PROTECTOR
He's just a hard working man-------MUFFIN


(I am still under anesthesia,if it doesn't make sense!! LOL!)...

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Working from dusk to dawn
Going home worn out 
All he wants to do is go to bed and sleep
But he has other things to do 
Take a shower and eat
Watch a little television 
Read the newspaper 
Then he might go to bed
Sleep endlessly 
Hear the alarm go off 
Time to get up 
Getting ready to go back to work 
Working from dusk to dawn 
…again…...

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None so weary as the hard-working man
Moving as much dirt as he possibly can,

His wife does her share of shoveling, too
They’ve bit off more than they can chew,

Both need some rest from the daily grind
But it seems reliable help is hard to find,

They work their fingers bare to the bone
Too bad they each do not have a clone.

Written June 23, 2022...

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He wakes every morning before the rooster crows 
He gets up and puts on his work clothes 
He moves a little slower 
His smile hangs a little lower 
He knows he’s getting older 
He can feel it in his shoulders 
Not one to complain
He works through the pain 
He doesn’t mind 
It’s all part of the daily grind 
He does what he does 
All for the ones he loves...

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This man cannot grasp 
His task at hand.

With fervor he tries
Diligently.

Trying, working, his
Sweat soaks his brow.

It is getting dark.
What will he do?

He tries to finish
But, can’t get it.

The Sun sets, time runs
Out, defeated.

Time to pack it in.
He bows his head.

With a last big sigh,
He lays to rest.

Maybe next time, he
Thinks to himself....

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I am trying to decide,
who is more qualified,
I think taxes should be paid,
but every one should be the same.
They all seem to have a plan,
but do they really understand.
The working man has to carry the load,
for the gravy train many know.
If money is to be taxed,
one time should be the max.
Not when you earn it,
but when you spend it.
It's broken, can we mend it?...

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This man cannot grasp 
His task at hand.
With fervor he tries
Diligently.
Trying, working, his
Sweat soaks his brow.
It is getting dark.
What will he do?
He tries to finish
But, can’t get it.
The sun sets, time runs
Out, defeated.
Time to pack it in.
He bows his head.
Maybe next time, he
Thinks to himself.
With a last big sigh,
He lays to rest.
For soon the morning
Breathes new attempts....

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A nocturnal sorting machine
clatters inside a skull.
Images flit across closed eyes.

A blind man works there,
he is not the loopy one
he’s just a working man,
a projectionist, a time-puncher.

There are surfacing zip codes
that can lead you from
one dream world to the next.

Read the waves that reach your shore.
Follow the insomniac
that looks into his own burning theater.
Read with a crazy heart....

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The lesser road I traveled
Dreams of needed escape for the hard working man in his every day life
Encompass the soul till it desires to break out from its daily routine
To live, to talk, to be saved, when the tension becomes rife
A system monotonous under grind from its Dean
My eternal witness is the always-empty plan
Nothing to offer but my very best
The road is for the free man
“Yes, man yes.”
Go...

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They say he's more than just a man 
They say he had a talisman 
For his arms are full of power 
They could climb a soaring tower 

He trains his brain to catch the rain 
He trains his heart to beat the strain 
His brain works almost everytime 
He makes his brain and body rhyme 

He trains himself everyday 
He doesn't take a holiday 
He holds the greatest talisman 
For he is a hard-working man 

April 14, 2023...

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The squeeze upon my jugular
Is all too much to bear
I wish to turn the hold on them
But life just isn’t fair

The working man is meant to work
He’ll never get ahead
But we must keep the tedious roles
To satisfy our debts

When I was single, I never cared
I’d tell them to piss off
But as a father, husband, provider
I take it now and cough

I hold it back, suppress it so
Which is a big mistake
Because one day I may explode
Or die from a headache...

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WORKING MAN

he worries a lot
about income
as though money
had anything to 
do with poetry

he claims to work
for me and the
family
and cannot figure
out why we are
not grateful

we would still talk
when he could feel
before selfishness
made us all thieves

afraid of death
he kills himself
with work
just to be safe
keeping his passions
on the side

leaving a surrogate 
family
lonely and disarmed


© Kim van Breda—28 April 2015...

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Pray for the Working Man
The one with calloused hands
Who has often been forgotten 
On the roadside of life's demands
The one that's seen faltering
At every juncture, every step
The one that seems to get it
But hasn't got it yet

Pray for the Working Man
As he fights for what little's left
Doing daily battles
With the thoughts inside his head
In what alone he would have been
Or in the past he could have said
So that his quotas are met
Pray for the Working Man...

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