The Price of Progress


I rise like a dead man alive;

A walking, talking, breathing, eating

Corpse that's trying to revive

Its human sense of dignity.


The house is full of mine and theirs,

The furniture, the memories.

The clothing strewn upon the stairs

Reminds me of my solitude.


I work all day, from dawn til dark,

Pulling, pushing, sweating, aching.

If I fail to make the mark

The whip comes down upon my face.


The goal is ever out of sight,

The numbers, shouts, the creaks and groans

Of metal never stop, til night

Comes down upon our simple lives.


The noise rings ever in my ears,

A gnawing, biting, throbbing pounding

Pulse that pushes through the years;

The price for progress is my life.




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