deepundergroundpoetry.com

Working Class Hero

Work until your bones are brittle
and your skin is worn and rough.
The work is hard and the pay is little
Boy, you gotta' be tough!

Take that spade and dig that hole;
Forget your hopes and dreams.
Now that's the spirit, boy!
It's not so bad, you see?

Have I become a slave to wages;
Merely working to survive?
As my aching body ages,
Sometimes it hurts to be alive...

But that's the price you pay,
For the comfort of a little room;
A place to rest the night away
When a long days work is through.

At night you'll lie in bed alone,
Where you dream of better days;
To forget the harsh reality,
To wish it all away.

And when the sun comes up again,
It's back to work for you.
Now dig another hole, my friend;
But this time, it's for you...
NewBeginnings
Written by NewBeginnings
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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