The grunt of the determined weak, is the strongest sound I ever heard
A tireless melancholy abound, holds, never letting go, they strut for you
The eyes old, wrinkly, blood-shot, stare back hard, fierce, still
Yet a smile they hold, so bright, so toxic, it melts all angst
The hands are rough, young, the arms bulge with all the hard-work
Steady, reactive, frightening but courteous they stay on either side
His torso is steady, a heart, beating like clockwork, never too excited
Never muddled; a paunch is building, perhaps the regular indulgence
Weakness? No but an escape from all that is wrong with this world
He means to take care but only so much can he take, only so much
I looked at him with sympathy, but he needed none, his look conveyed
I felt a tinge, nervous me, creeping within, my leg shaking involuntary
I thought deep, of how, how many of him are there around us
Strong yet dilapidated, by the hits of time, of the rich and the unkind
Yet they don't give up, never give up them all, they only look up
To see an unsmiling soul, mortified, grey, scant, foul, they smell
Yet they smile back, smile for us, smile for a world so round, so wound
But who cares, together all alone, they surrender each night, to fight back at dawn.
