The Handyman



The Handyman

The saw cuts through my thoughts
as the drill fills sounds through the air
the hammer smashes upon the nails
without a veil of silence within my head

For the worker that grinds each day
deserving of much more for his trade
yet receiving little from his slavers of labour
as his hands now become callused and cut
with all eight fingers stretched out bent

While he cuts away sheets of tin
to change into a hidden passage for heat
as he is unnoticed by a world of people
that walks by the house on the street

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Submitted on July 05, 2016

Modified on March 05, 2023

29 sec read
11

Quick analysis:

Scheme XXXX XXXXX XAXA
Closest metre Iambic pentameter
Characters 505
Words 99
Stanzas 3
Stanza Lengths 4, 5, 4

Norman Wilson

IntroductionForgotten are the times the tick of a clock once chimed sobering sounds that caressed my hearts nightly dreams. As I awaken to the touch of light that burns upon a candles wick flickering my words for all to see. This drives my thoughts through the darkest of nights of loneliness that renders my quill upon parchment with ink that dances to minds and souls.Now I hear the screeching of my heart when the blue horizon covers the orb of emptiness.Within the shelter of my mind with little, purpose other than my words that keep me sane. These are my new poems I have written in the quiet of my night, forever wished away in a writer’s pain. As I strive to write that perfect poem that, my soul desperately seeks. Then and only then can my words rest upon a sleep. more…

All Norman Wilson poems | Norman Wilson Books

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