El Machismo

For a reason as to why I wrote this poem, check this link.

EL MACHISMO

He strikes the hammer on the anvil,
He faces the blast from the furnace with all his will,

In the boom of the battle, he stands his ground,
Facing the enemy, inspite his wound.

Outside the huge manor, he stands,
Eyes wired open,
Into the blackness,
All alone, and lightly armed,
Yet none make amends.

Wiping the oil, from his head,
He stands in queue, with others ahead,
For his wages, which he barely saves,
His children's future he paves.

The spanner turns, under your sink,
The debris you threw goes,
Yet, you do the same again, without a shrink.

The stitches in your shoe, he made,
All the while, drenched in the rains,
So that you can wade.

His ambition, yet unsevered,
His goal, yet not distant,
He toils, in the hope of something,
Which we all do,
Love, peace, happiness and a satisfying death.

P.S: There were many other things that I could write about on the topic.. but felt it might become boring.