deepundergroundpoetry.com

The Construction Labourer

He moulds dreams in concrete and steel,
Sometimes in marble and exotic granites,
But irony of fate when he reaches home at night,
Earth becomes his cosy bed,
And open sky becomes his roof.
(To all the homeless labourers who toil hard all day long to build our dream homes yet they do not have any home to return and shelter them)
Written by rajibr (Damned Soul)
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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