Thursday, April 5, 2012
THE CLEANER'S STORY.
Sweep the dust from off the feet
feet running, not knowing the sight they will meet.
They just heard their friend was brought in from the street.
Wipe the tears from off the chair
The tears of she who just lost her dear
The tears of one with a burden of three to bear.
Mop the saliva off the floor
From he with a stroke at just forty four
All his ambitions and dreams can't be anymore.
Sweep the slippers into the bin
He won't need it as he's leaving
He won't need it where he's going .
Wipe the sweat from off the wall
From the mom whose only son had a fall
Sweat for fear she would lose her all.
Doctors, nurses, don't even notice me
Walking, talking, they can't even see
Feeling important as they hurry off for tea.