The Story Of The Old BOOT
17th September, 2015 Writers
While I was new, I worked all noon
While I was here, I worked it all there
Now I am going, strained from the stress that's crawling
For the work is still on, but here I stop
Now I know, that though I grow old
Our work is never old, and yes it is always sold, to the labourers that sow

Adieu my work
My sons still will pick you up

So this prayer I make this morn
That when they stopped like the calm storm, they'll move like me son
Always at home each dawn
And rest their peaceful soar
And not stop by the road side.
and your work
Others will pick up. And evergreen it goes on
And you forgotten like old sodom

Rivers, Nigeria
  • Our work as labour men makes us dispensable, the end game should be fufilment not strain. The boot prays...(Photo by Adeboye Thomas #Extreme Photos )

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