These hands
have toiled,
sweating, rough
and bleeding.

This furnace,
my body, striving
onward, in
day’s searing
heat-
desiring
collapse.

Stiff, brittle
claws, frozen-
these
hands.

Mind,
body,
spirit-
slowed, by
fatigue,
numbing pain.

Siphoned, by
parasitic quotas.
Besieged, by
ruthless taskmasters,
until, day’s
end.

Resting-
from
the labor,
of
the
day.