Sonnet for the Common Man

common laborers

In honor of Robbie Burns, poet laureate of Scotland, born this day in 1759 in Alloway. He ever championed the plight of the common man but, ironically, was the toast of Edinburgh and London high society. Long may his legacy remind us of our need to walk shoulder to shoulder with “the little guy.”






Seen without his hard hat, hammer and a drill,

one could not forget his meager manner.

For, through his calloused hands, he ever strives to build,

with strength not derived from rich man’s banner.

He stoops and bends and heaves with stout, broad shoulders,

through heat of day, his burdens bravely borne.

At evening breezes’ promise, then he’ll hold her,

no heavy burdens carried till the morn.

As silence settles, with no moon, comes darkness,

and dreaming comes to steal away his pain;

in these grey hours his battles cease their starkness,

yet as the new day dawns he’ll start again.

In simplest pleasures finds he all his joy;

the common man wins peace fit to enjoy.

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