From labor to industry man achieves;
industry's vain to the child she conceives,
the child speaking mysteries, clueless they say;
mystery all as the child sees his day.
From industry's labor the child has share
though finding its favor, he lends it his care;
caring no more for the price or the pay
preparing the chore he just labors away.
This labor of love he deposits with care
in manifold gestures, yes plenty to spare;
his child speaks such mysteries, so wise they say
his father still working yet miles away.
Their rest is their being, it's being alive;
the rest of these beings work hard to survive.
A contest entry
- Wow Me! by Malkolis.
450 points, ended March 30, 2008, 24 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
-
I love this write, it is well written and your flow fits perfectly with your message. I particularly like the first 3 lines, I believe those 3 could stand on their own and make a great poem. and somehow, you managed to keep going without ruining the feel of it.
great write.
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