Let me
harness myselfneck yoked between the shafts
of duty and ordeal,
eyes hope lit
feet patience shod
heart and mind
saved
from wrangling desires for a while,
unworried by appearance,
nothing fancy
just a bowl of rice
and lumber and plod
the fallow field of the daily chore of existence,
dragging
the ploughshare of responsibility
whipped
whenever falter,fatigue struck
yet without
grudge or groan, grub the ground to grow
food made of that dirt called earth
that fuels what lives in man and burns;
with the work all done
I am home at the shamble.
Poetry by yoonoos peerbocus
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Written on 2026-04-06 at 01:43
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