This poem is heavily inspired by one of my favourite poems “The Village Blacksmith”. I loved the poem so much that I blatantly borrowed lines from it. You can listen to the original here: https://youtu.be/-XXz5InbG0Y
If all goes well someday
I desire to write a follow-up to this “The family man”
On with the poem….
-
Prajval Albuquerque
Under a split AC
The
Bachelor sits;
The Bachelor, a moderately built man is he,
With thin and lanky arms,
And the muscles of his brawny brain
Are strong as iron bands.
His hair is crisp, black, and short,
The chilled air and bright lights have faded his face’s
natural tan,
The AC is chill but his brow is wet with honest sweat.
He earns whatever he can,
He looks the whole world in the face,
For all his, credit card bills are paid,
And he owes not any man.
Week in, week out, from morn till night,
You can hear his fingers type and the screen swipe;
Like a carpenter tapping his nails.
You can see him drain the corporate coffee,
During his break and time free.
The HR coming from Board Room
Looks in at the open door;
He loves to see the brightened screen,
And see the executed code soar.
He goes on Sunday to the church,
And sits among other bachelors;
He hears the priest pray and preach,
He hears his crush’s voice
Singing in the church choir,
And it makes his heart rejoice.
It sounds to him like his first love's voice
Singing in some other man’s arms!
And with his hard, rough hand he wipes,
A tear out of his eyes.
Toiling,—rejoicing,—sorrowing,
Onward through life he goes.
Each morning sees some assignment begin,
Each evening sees it close.
Something attempted, something done,
He sleeps peacefully,
Knowing well he has earned a night's repose.
Thanks, thanks to thee, my worthy friend,
For the lesson
thou hast taught!
Thus at the flaming forge of life
Our fortunes
must be wrought;
Thus on the worn out key board typed out, lived out,
Each burning deed and thought.
