Tattered blue overalls covered in white
stains,
Paints and powders and the day’s hard pains.
Skin scorned and tortured by the sun,
The price you pay for the luxury of some.
Dreams you’re not conditioned to dream,
Words ripped from your heart by the stream,
Eyes-hearts closed you can never win,
The price you pay for the luxury of one.
Holding in his hands but a few slices of
bread
To carry him into the hot sun's dread
the restless
day and the weary walk home.
The price he pays for my luxury.
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