Nothing On This Earth

I did not arrive to toil for anyone's fancy,
Or their foils to have me grieve.
I am here to get work done.
And if I'm shunned that's okay,
You've elected to leave me that way!
That's my only obligation...
To produce for God!
And there will not be any other way!
No matter how strange.
Or job I do with a look you find odd!

Your decision to keep me suppressed...
Only produces not supercede your duress.
And nothing on this Earth your ignorance has done,
Will succeed to accomplish anything...
Unless it's defeat you declare you have won!
I answer to The Almighty.
Not just the whims of anyone!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!