A Working Man

I am a working man,

with a verve, passion, a concept

of what I feel is right

in the vocation that I am.

 

I need to see the might

of quickly drawn out ideals

that give me inspiration,

capture a full moon at night.

 

I watched her drive away

her smile was something to hold

wondering then what happened

to the silence of today.

 

This isn’t who we imagine,

the working man in his day,

has thoughts of some reaction

speak to personal, my chagrin

 

I am a steadfast human being,

drawn by a mechanical means

I cannot step away from love,

a sordid state of wooing.

 

She walked away from a life we knew,

and then ironic, so did she.


© Thom Amundsen 3/2020

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