Reflecting Self Portrait in a Working Man's Beer...

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
I grew up with factory workers, farmers, and general laborers. This poem is about the distant look of lost dreams I have seen in the eyes of many of my closest friends; I may have seen it in my own refection in the mirror. This poem is dedicated to the working man.

Submitted: April 06, 2012

A A A | A A A

Submitted: April 06, 2012



Eyes already yellowed reflecting back off the golden shine of his beer;

They stare back sunkenso sunken

Dark wisdom as his calloused finger spins the rim of the glass

The gloom conceals only the light of late day sun

His hair is grayed and aged perceptively before its time

To not be herenot be here

His soul is soured but wise

It can pierce a soul with but a sudden glare toward yesterday

He takes a sip savoring the slightly warm ale

No longer coldso cold

Like his heart sparking a vision

He does see all secrets hidden

He has seen them before

He has seenhe has seen

His world of blood sweat and tears

Is this a mask which burdens his smile but a façade…?

He knows of nothing more than the next swallow

And the next weeks laborstill next week again

He draws upon his own pain spinning another circle upon the rim

Drunken in the blues he is

Cursed to the daily toil of agonizing labor

Toiling tediously in the grindto the grind

He lightly flicks a fly as it floats to close to his warm ale

As he gazes back at the reflection of a working man’s self-portrait

It floats back at him from the beer.

© Copyright 2017 jmurch. All rights reserved.

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