Buried Effort

Buried Effort short poem

Photo by jackwickes

A face unbeknownst – belying recognition,
To create mighty buildings is his mission.
With caring hands does he mix,
The cement and mud that he spreads over the bricks.
Over his head he carries,
The stones brought from the quarries.
Moving his arms up and down,
Does he dabble with the spade,
To dig roads for the cities and town,
Till it is well laid.
From the body, trickles sweat.
In return for all this what does he get?
An unending labor,
That seems only to favor-
Those who reap the benefit!
But our poor laborer is always hard hit.
Who has given the world its seven wonders?
About this, one seldom ponders.
Pray who have had built palaces?
Certainly not the kings!
Yet their names are chanted-
People feel enchanted,
And laud them for building these beauteous things!
Whilst the fame of kings are carried far and wide-
The world cares less, and continues to hide.
The laborers toil,
That has had raised so many lofty towers upon the soil.
But carved on them is Emperors’ glory,
While buried under them for eternity will be our laborers’ misery!

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Shobha Sundharam

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Like to write.....poems, short plays, screenplay.wish to make a film with a good script written by me and would like to have Big B on board...just a dream
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