at Work, and at Dreams

I went to work
and I worked hard
and it was humdrum, tedious
and so I wrote a poem
but you know, nobody pays for poems
You can dream
but you can't put bread on the table
so I went to work
and I worked hard
and it was humdrum, tedious
and so I wrote a poem
but you know, nobody pays for poems
You can dream
but you can't put bread on the table
so I went to work…

Sandra Martyres
I share your sentiments on this one..Absolutely true Raj, if only poetry put bread on the table..I'd have retired long ago...Cheers

Kesav V Easwaran
I relish the beauty and truth of your realistic write...the mind and and the mundane life...nice work

narain, jay p.
No wonder why poets are brole

Patrick McFarland
Wow, my sentiments exactly. By repeating this poem, you demonstrate the nature of the working man's repetitive life. Very nice Raj.

Dorothy A. Holmes apwlts2
I love it! Love it! Love it!...This poem with heart, passion and truth! Thank you for telling it like it is...yet the applause do have dividens. Dorothy A Poet Who Loves To Sing

nightmute
Well, there it is in its beautiful, cyclic form. To work, to dream, to work...and so on. I liked the repetition of this, it drives home the point.

poeticpiers reborn again
Poets don't get rich as a general rule. but working provides inspiration as well as putting food on the table

heather wilkins
Well I guess we just have to work hard for our bread. Raj. I like this one.