The Meal Grinder by vaggabondd
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Description
I saw a man
Everyday grinding grain into meal
His face was very Tan
Wrinkles surrounded his eyes
A gray beard clung to the loose skin of his face
Dark brown eyes looked weary
With no vision in sight
I stopped one day and ask him
If he liked his job
He looked at me and said
Why do you ask me such a silly question
I have a wife and kids
Everyday I get a little sack of meal
And a few pence in purse every week
For meat
I paused for a minute and said
I understand but I just wondered if you like your job
He looked at me and said
Why do you ask me such a silly question
I have a wife and kids
Everyday I get a little sack of meal
And a few pence in purse every week
For meat
Comments (4)
Sekadhar
Yes, that is a life...not very good one! But we have what we have...bravo! Wise poem as your "sily" question!!! Like it much! Your poems are very good! Bravo!!!
A2J2001
Well said. Sounds all to familar.
Zeldie
What Sekadhar said is true - our cards are dealt. What we do with them is totally up to us.
violet
Yep....that's the way life is.....well done !!