deepundergroundpoetry.com

Hard work

You work until your hands become blistered
You work your blisters until they form calluses
You work until your calluses rip open
Working until your hands are stripped of their flesh
You wear down your bones
Slowly grinding them into dust
Then and only then
You may rest
Written by Jomamma97 (Frank Statile)
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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