Workday without an End

The work day has begun

It is ten at night

The absence if sun

Calls for artificial light

The hard-working man

Slides in to his car

Nine hours straight is the plan

But for him it's half way thus far

At six in the morning

He comes back home

But not much loitering

He must still roam

To job number two

He goes for nine more

To do what he must do

With aches and pains galore

Eighty hours this week

Eighty in the before

He comes home for sleep

Time to rest the soars

But four more hours

And he is back in the night

Wake up and smell the flowers

Aren't they a delight?

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