Working Day Poems - Poems about Working Day

My alarm hit me like a ton of bricks. I had to play life's game of pick-up sticks. I leapt up to put on my working clothes. There was no time to doze. Dashing about, I did, like a bat from Hell to arrive on time to my cubicle cell, wondering if I might get very far. I left my brain inside a...

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As the dawn awakens the sky, The stars can settle for rest. The sun in the blink of an eye, Will breach the horizon's crest. The weary rise to their feet, To begin a brand new day. A routine they must repeat, In order to earn their pay. Children will rush out the door, To catch their buses to school. Mothers must mop the floor, To...

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The working day It was dark I had been to a place I should not have been, when I saw a river of men coming out of the subway filling the street with silence and decorum. Daylight came, neon light shivered and died this was not a time for frivolities and false promises. at the end of the day,...

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had a hectic day with lots of things to do so glad i found my way home from work did not think i would make it not with the dark, the cold and the exhaustion conspiring against me opened the door after some time of fumbling with the keys not sure what goes where slummed the door shut and dropped the bag on the...

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These two men died with a rope dangling Them from a tree Like they were ******* in southern Captivity. Why could they not make labor day in May? The proper way to commemorate a life Is on the day the life changed history. These two men, they died And history for all workers was the same For all are now scorched by hate That torch...

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I'll always remember Granpa Shreeve at Eaton Road,where he+Gran dwelt, a wide thick trouser buckled belt no collar,braces+rolled-up shirt sleeve He kept hens at the bottom of his patch his soldier's back now bent to stoop, collecting eggs from his home-coop, each day letting them out to root+scratch Organically grown,fed as range free a pullet killed as a Christmas treat each day a fresh...

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Theres not many jobs so theres no money, Times are hard and thats not funny, Stuck in doors, day in day out, No wonder parents are starting to shout, Our kids are the ones that have to suffer, They may get dinner but there is no supper, The people in goverment just dont see, Well their not you and their not me, What...

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Restless and consumed with dread I await the impending chimes. Soulless and unrelenting they torture my weary senses. Reluctant limbs melt away from the softness. Contact with the harsh floor shocks me into motion. Natures’ call is answered with rebellious eyes that defy the inevitable. A whoosh of icy reality sends my breath hurtling towards the heavens. Carefully pressed shirt and...

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How near nothing something comes. It is saliva laced on lips, a litany of winter trees holding the sky in. We rise automatically, fondle the heat on, hear our newspaper words fill the walls like stale air as we axe frost from the windshield of moon warming up in the driveway. Outside, the wind rears up on hind legs and screams. But there...

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Body exhausted from a day of work. Aches, pains, soreness seeping from every inch of my being. Mind is tired, weary, words fighting to come out. Difficulty moving pen across paper. So much to be said but no energy to allow the healing outpour to occur. Eyes so heavy, a burden to keep them open, to keep them alert. Restful sleep...

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