Working Man - Poem by Francis Duggan
He is not a philosopher, he is not a poet
And he is not a man of note
And though he yearns for wealth and fame
There's many like him feel the same.
The job he work at has no trade
And as a labourer he is paid
And though his is a menial job
He owes not any one a bob.
He wake at five thirty each day
And to pick up spot he makes his way
An hour's drive in the old work van
Such is the lot of labouring man
He lives a good and decent life
And he doesn't go home and beat his wife
But honest man 'twould seem to me
Remains at base of social tree.
He work and live from day to day
And Government tax deducted from his pay
And he help the Country in no small way
Still working man doesn't have a say.
Comments about Working Man by Francis Duggan
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
- Still I RiseMaya Angelou
- The Road Not TakenRobert Frost
- If You Forget MePablo Neruda
- DreamsLangston Hughes
- Annabel LeeEdgar Allan Poe
- Stopping By Woods On A Snowy EveningRobert Frost
- IfRudyard Kipling
- Do Not Stand At My Grave And WeepMary Elizabeth Frye
- I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love YouPablo Neruda
- TelevisionRoald Dahl