Treasure Island

Walter C. Edwards


Battle Weary Worker


When I have to wake up,
in the morning,
I pull myself in pain,
the earth is tugging at me,
once again,
I place myself in morning,
to the coming day,
sun is bright before me,
but all I see is gray,
battle weary worker,
tortured by economic forces,
on the line for my own liberty,
feel that in this war,
I am losing my mind,
and dignity.

Submitted: Saturday, May 04, 2013
Edited: Wednesday, September 18, 2013

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  • Gajanan Mishra (5/4/2013 9:51:00 PM)

    very good poem on liberty. sun is bright.thanks.
    I invite you to read my poems and comment. (Report) Reply

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