He wakes up long
before the dawn, though he slept little through the night.
Joints ooze pain
and bones that ache, his muscles feel so sore and tight.
Shower and brush
and comb and shave, a cup of coffee clears his head.
Decades of backbreaking
work, yet each day the same path to tread.
His name is sewn
upon his shirt, his boots are clad with toes of steel.
A box lunch made
the night before will have to serve as his next meal.
He makes the
steel and drills for oil, and moves whatever’s in the way,
He welds the
pipe and builds the ships, and goes about it every day.
He speaks
importance to his job, yet in his heart he knows he lies.
He looks for
meaning to his toil, but disappointment blinds his eyes.
For he detests
the grueling work that wreck his body and his soul,
He bears
this weight up every day, while time and nature take their toll.
Each day he’ll
sweat, and he may bleed, and he gets old before he’s due,
It’s not the
dollar that keeps him on, but the dreams he does pursue.
With his loved
ones still asleep, he’s off into the pre dawn mist.
He whispers
sweet goodbyes to each, and on each cheek he leaves a kiss.
He steps into
the early morn', fog dancing in the streetlights glow,
He thinks he’ll
get the car to start, if he holds down the gas just so.
About now he
will stop in stride, and take a breath, and let it pass,
He takes a
moment to thank God for all the blessings that he has.
© John Greenwood 2008