Angrily erupts, the grey steam
A creation of my punishing toil
And as I tend the hungry gleam
The heat makes my blood boil
With little rest in hours eight
Fatigue, my body barely fights
Load upon load into the grate
Even the shovel’s handle bites
Yet my will refuses to relent
For my loved ones I must feed
Though my might be so spent
Every penny does fulfil a need
Thus, I shall suffer this sorrow
Till I earn my share for the day
Then be back again tomorrow
As, for me exists no other way
-Kartik Shastry
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