With Fingers Weary

With fingers weary
With eyelids heavy
I no longer lone for manual labor
Tho it be necessarily the thing to do
To work from nine to five
And work I say work for who?
This life long labor is all for you
My work is to say what I say to you
By the pen may it be made true.

poem by David E. Patton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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