Work

We boil ourselves intently

To peel away the skin

So others can then see

The artistry within

A tapestry of trials

An ever forming story

And millions though there be

Much fewer end in glory

And still the work continues

Tireless and daunting

Until the smallest boons

Are memories left haunting

But something works within us

And if we give it mind

It will punish yet propel us

‘Til we’re spent down to the rind