In factories
Secluded from the lights
Of your civilisation
(Cold walls,
Screeching steel)
We stand and wait.
Comfort is found
In scraps of peace:
The lightest pressure
Of breath against skin,
A wet nose,
A slow blink
Of thick-lidded eyes.
In factories
Shielded from the glories
Of your progress
(Hoarse voices,
Electric jolts)
We stagger onwards.
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Great post 🙂
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Beautiful, moving poem.
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