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Working daysClouds like a chain of armour hang overhead daring me to lie asleep and smile in the sun,lift me up to think again of working days to get the daily meal O what a feeling it must feel that back that cannot stay on its own but must possess kingdom and crown working days week to week sweat and strain charm me to doze muscles and mental powers in communion bones worked to the marrow for a reward of bread and love of the wind a sweet tune as I muse in this room working days from dusk to dawn Poetry Ad-Free Upgrades Vote for this poem
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