Poem 1 (Group Poem)
Wednesday, September 8, 2010 ‚óè 8:16 PM
Construction workerI know I am a minor
To most people in this world
Day by day,it is still the same;
Drilling deep into the ground,
Hammering nails into the wood,
Carrying loads on my back
My body sore due to the long working hours
Throughout the days.
Living in a "hotel"
Dirt,rubbish and rats.
Is what I see everyday.
The pungent smells mixed with sweat and garage,
Makes me just want to puke.
The sun is grazing towards the
Gloomy and filthy room,
But the light doesn't seem to penetrate
Through the darkness that cover over the room,
Giving a claustrophobic feeling.
Bathing,washing and drinking with tap water,
Sitting on the sofa with infested insects,
Sleeping in a bed shared by four.
Screeching sounds filled the room breaking the silence,
Giving out an eerie feeling,
Living in an room filled with polluted air.
The sun rises again,
I'm going to start the day again,
As a construction worker.
Towing my tired legs to work,
Ignoring the desire to sleep.
Labouring all day under the blazing sun,
Be it rain or shine,
I will be there for work.
As though the work of the sun is to make my work harder,
Not caring about the stares i got,
Just trying my best in what I do,
Taking pride in what I do.
Skipping my breakfast and lunch,
Is my daily routine.
Carrying the hunger to work,
I have to ignore my empty stomach.
The most I have is a sandwich and a coffee in the late evening,
Chatting with my friends.
Resuming work with my theraphy charged,
Slowly constructing a building out of nothing.
Time flies very fast,
Without knowing,
It's time to head back to the hostel and
Light off in the midnight.
Then,I start my whole working routine again,
Before the sun rises.
As a construction worker,
I always take pride in my work,
Cause the safety of the people living in the building,
Is in our hands.
But all the hard work,
Sweat and blood and effort that we put in,
Does anyone even appreciate it?
Does anyone in the society even recognize it?