A lot has been said so far in this campaign season about the workers who help make this great state a place people want to live, raise a family, and spend their last days. I was inspired to write a poem about these workers. I hope you enjoy. Thank you.
I humbly stand here before you, tired and broken
My skin stained with the blood of a million hurts
I bear this cross in obedient silence, my solemn words unspoken
I do this not for the man in the mirror, nor his brethren
It's merely one stop along my path to eternal grace
The faces I see along that path, deeply etched in my memory within
I am a worker, deep inside my core, lies the heart and soul of a nation
Along with the hopes and fears, wants and needs of every man, save my God
For we mortals are full of love, hate, joy, sorrow, excitement and frustration
Frustration bred from years of being pushed aside, pushed around and simply forgotten
No more shall we cower in fear nor shall we retreat in defeat,
Many before us have tried to rise up and have failed, their plans misbegotten
Banded together, workers all across this great nation, armed with pure grit and drive
Will give America back to her people, no more time shall be wasted
Our spirits are awakened, in this moment, this place, we have never felt so alive
