THE SONG OF A LABOURER

THE SONG OF A LABOURER

Alas! I am often misconceived of selling myself,

Though, in reality, I am hired to sell my honest service,

Though, by discharging my duty, I earn my integrity-pelf,

Though, I squeeze my blood under the sky, being many a piece!

I am as punctual as a flawless watch,

Who can, to my contributions for the society, duly match?

Alas! The sun and the Moon visit my cottage in quick succession,

Though, only due to my toils, in all houses, the cooking stoves burn!

Alas! The luckless kids of mine are aliens to all modern amenities,

All govt. benefit schemes never change our fates being realities!

Many lofty castles of hopes are built for us in the unreachable air,

I am, indeed, born to care, but never to desire my deserving share,!

This is the precarious song of my wretched life in a nut shell,

I build heavens for millions albeit I am forever an inmate of the hell!

*Albeit: although

Copyright: Shankar D Mishra  04.08.2018