Labor for sale

December 10, 2008
By Rebecka Sandson, Fontana, CA

Walking on a highway, labor for sale.
A pack on his back, no ties to the world.
He feels so alone yet there are many like him.
Struggling to survive in a ruined economy.

Walking on a highway, labor for sale.
Eating a piece of bread, cold and stale.
Will someone give him work
So that he may have a decent meal?
Walking for days-on-end
He has no one to talk to.
His shadow is his only friend.

Walking on a highway, labor for sale.
He lays down with his pack and closes his eyes
He dreams of a place without depression or lies.


The author's comments:
i was inspired to write this poem after seeing a picture of a migrant worker walking down the highway during the great depression.

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