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It's winter time and I am frozen still,
Like meat in fridge, my body heeds me not,
With will like crushed and salted ice, oft lull,
And face like cracked berg with drying snot.

But, I've to drag myself to work and earn,
To keep the meat in fridge and heater on.
And only want to curl in cold like fern,
While envy each and every snail at dawn.

It's summer time and I am leaking sweat,
And smell like egg gone bad left out too long.
While craving indoor cooler, filled and set,
A drink in hand and toasting bygone songs.

But I've to drag myself to trim the lawn,
In summer sun that cures and dries like speck,
To show the worn and hidden cobble-stone.
And forget scarf and hat, so burn my neck.

It's autumn and I am sneezing again,
And strong enough to dust our attic clean,
Enjoy a cup of apple cider glen,
And sleep on couch while facing down in jeans.

But, I've to drag myself to rake the leaves,
With no respect for me to fall at once,
And slowly one by one a dance it weaves,
While wriggling branches at me like I'm a dunce.

It's springtime, I am splattered full of mud,
While inside stuck because of vernal rains,
And want to walk the outside blooming world,
While smelling daises near the creeping vines.

But, I've to drag myself to clean the porch,
As all the boots from outside track in sludge,
Against the many insects, stand the watch,
And soak and rub the stains as they won't budge.

And want to roll and make the angels snow,
And want to **** the mango flesh from seed.
And climb the golden tress so girls could wow!
And run through ankle deep of grass and ****.

But I've to drag myself to shovel yard,
But I've to drag myself to clean the pool,
But I've to drag myself to paint the wood,
But I've to drag myself to oil my tools.

Another year has come and gone again,
While want to do so much in little breath,
And want to change my ways to freedom gain,
To hide my craggy, jagged edge in sheath.
m 3d
in dishes made for food
in cups made to drink
***** hands will hold them up to block the sun

like people forced to work
to soften clanks against their plate

a stair rail forced to break
sits kindly beside it’s well
exactly almost where it’s meant to be

like mom starts her shift
beneath her wheels will turn
and turn and turn

a worn down walking cane
pushed through door handles
assigned to keep it shut against the wind

a woman limps across
with all her weight she leans
between the handles, against the creaking crane
exactly almost where it’s meant to be

like when i go to work
the pull of chatting with a friend
you feel the forming group
exactly almost where i’m meant to be
exactly almost
exactly almost where I’m meant to be
Man 5d
Are you a good person?
Are you good men?
Are you good women?

Are you a mature adult?

Because only a child
Believes bedtime stories & fairytales.
Go to sleep!

I get it,
You'd rather a fantasy
Outside of reality.
Get to work!

Things still haven't fallen in place,
You feel out-of-step;
You're crawling
And you feel you should at least
Be walking.
Wake back up!

It's *******, I know,
I hear you.
But, here among us,
This is our daily regiment
And the butter of our sustenance.
Eat your oats!

I hear you, I get it,
It's a lot to swallow.
Get it down or choke!
Bedtime stories like the glories of battle & the honor in war.
m 6d
the office sits still  
the tremble of it's hands  
the glitch of days within

i walk down some hall  
and a man passes me by with a mop and bucket
i feel the water lick my leg, i feel the grip of hands on it's handle  
though it stays where it is

someone drills an unreadable sign to the wall and i feel the screws dig to my bones  
though they stay where they are placed

i walk through my office door  
they're dismantling my computer  
a piece within it cracks  
and i fall to the floor  
a tool
Gravedigger, gravedigger,
Why do you spend you evenings,
Dredging in the yard?

Gravedigger, gravedigger,
Does this break your heart,
That nobody else wanted to do the ***** work,
So they left you to shovel through the mud?
I might've used up my inspiration yesterday.
pilgrims Feb 10
Never a day has passed

that my heart did not break
as our Sun hides behind Earth.

When the dawn wakes
lids separate, I stretch and yawn
Another shift sifting mirth from dearth
Holding together this disparate ache
If you're reading this, I love you
J.
Abbott J Hardison
             e
             e
             z
I think I disappoint my family,
Every time I Be abbreviating my middle name.
                       u
                       t
At least I'm working to get my name known,
So when I sign 'J.' people will wonder what it is.
I was named after the middle name of almost everyone on my dad's side of the family and my middle name is the first name of so many people on my mom's side.
Maximus Tamo Feb 9
Tucked under watch of a recent town,
Nourishing raindrops trickle down,
Steady on, a boy works the land,
For none here would eat, 'cept by his hand,
Through the night and on to the morn,
He works alone as a new day is born,
Digging, raking, and sowing,
Soon labor's fruits are growing,
Dread spring flood or autumn gale,
He tends the earth in heat or hail,
To find to reap, the sweetest feat,
To give others, his crop to eat.
Be a farmer of kindness...
Bekah Halle Feb 8
Where too, shall my soul seek immortality?
It hath been found in work and people — 
Are they not noble pursuits?
But Death they found, surrendered, feeble.

Heaven called, why not try I?
So sought and found sweet streams.
Rested but for a while — 
Until consciousness awoke my dreams.

Did not Shakespeare claim the pen,
Is mightier than the sword?
Now keys replace ink,
But still, words cannot be ignored.

Words create our worlds,
What doth they saying of you?
Breath sweeps o’er the mountains
Worry not the truth is still true.
Riri Feb 3
Sitting in my room,
time drags, slow and heavy.
Is this what it means to mature?
Sitting, studying, working—
or does the weight of it make me feel grown?

I feel tired,
yet the hours demand more.
Working, working...
this night stretches long,
a weary silence pressing in.

Barking sounds stir me—
had I drifted off?
Is this what it means to mature?
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