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 duty-bound 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 imperceptible air,
I am, indeed, born to care, but never to demand my deserving share!
 
This is the precarious song of my wretched life in a nut shell,
Though I build heavens for millions, I am forever an inmate of the hell!
 
Copyright: Dr. Shankar D Mishra, Sr. Lecturer in English, Bhubaneswar, Odisha, India 01.05.2023

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