Duty
He stands with shoulders bowed by years,By quiet weight, not loudest fears.An immigrant with weathered hands,Who learned that hope on labour stands.Three jobs lost. A lifetime gone.The race moved past while he held on.His body aged before its time,Yet still he rose with morning's chime.Each ache now lingers longer still,Each step demands a sterner will.The joints complain, the muscles burn,Yet every dawn he will return.Not chasing wealth, nor seeking praise,Nor counting out his harder days.He […]






