Blood, Sweat, Tears.

Sunrise,
Clear skies,
Cool breeze,
Green lawn,
Perfect day.

Clothes on,
Leaves home,
No bread,
The pocket said,
It'll be for quite a while.

Seat belt on,
The radio's on,
His favorite song,
Waits for his boss too long.

Midday,
Champagne popping,
Wine glass clanging,
Forks, knives, jaws in ceaseless turning,
Of the restaurant's food into a meal deserving,
Of lords like them and not the guy driving.

Midnight,
Loud snoring,
Beer cans falling,
At the back of the car where sat the married man and the unmarried wife,
He keeps his eyes to the road.

Not getting a chance to ask for the day's salary,
He goes home albeit hungry,
He'll be there tomorrow,
That's what he said yesterday and the other day.
Blood, Sweat, Tears.

My pen has bled so listen to my heartwriting

By Allan M. Kiptoo

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