Mickey Marshall


The Dreams of a Working Man


I am huddled by the fire
And only it gives light
In my lonely little cabin
On this winter’s night

Summer is but a memory
As the last of my wood burns
I know that Death will find me
‘Ere the season turns

I am but a working man
A dropp within the sea
If I die on my cabin floor
No one will miss me

I look back upon my life
The choices I had to make
Slowly I fall asleep
Never to awake

Submitted: Friday, March 25, 2011

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