Neat In The Morn, Dirty At Dusk Poem by Joshua Adeyemi

There they are,
Some pleasant, some scar:
Diverse tale and story told,
Glottis for songs and hymns scold.

1)In the day,
When the hay along the sun pray.
They're off to each field,
To carress the earth and to till.
Dawn gazing at their effort,
Making jest of them-jealously then sprout.
Ocean of sweat flowing from their faces,
Their beards enclosed in thick phases.
Struggle for health and wealth,
To breed one, to make another melt.
And after the day's strenous effort,
They get for their labour peanuts.

2)At the dusk, they walk as the weaver:
Whose feet on the earth had never cover.
Looking like the beaming light,
They wear the shade of pleasant sights:
As if they'd never toil with labour,
Nor been fed by her savour.
Desirable and Worthwhile they tend,
But their beginning was unknown but their end.

3)Neat at dawn,
Raw in the dusk:
Oh rather, Dirty in the dawn,
Flashy in the dusk.

4)Man shall depend on his sweat,
Or in penury forever he'll bedwet.
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