It is hard to grasp the stars,
when you stare at the dirt;
and only see your calloused hands.

You look forward;
yet see nothing.
You look behind
and feel regret.
Your body
Your mind
Tired

There is no sense of direction
There is no inspiration
starring upon your calloused hands

You, *** and bang
against the grain,
rambling on;
Not knowing
if you move,
Forward or
Reverse.

Time doesn't stand
Only your task at hand
starring upon your calloused hands.

Friends and family
are just a luxury.
Soon
they will be gone,
leaving you,
to grind away...
Again.

The task is complete;
Looking down to see
Nothing ... but your winkled hands.