And we pour 
Our souls
From shrunken lives 
Withering vessels
Pretending
To hold 
Heads high
And salute 
Whilst the hard earned
Salt
Drips from
Our skin
Our eyes
Until we turn it
Into silver and gold
And some of us
Moan
About working 
And some of us
Grumble about the 
Pressure
Of not working
And all of us 
Struggle
With getting
So many things
Wrong
Bleeding back
Into the earth
Blaming it
For our trials
And troubles
Cursing
And worshipping
The sun and the rain
Poor weak victims
Scurrying with
The mice
Fighting the waves
And the ocean
Crumbling
As we 
Destroy
This world around us
Quick to lay blame
Before bricks
Sharp to chop trees 
Sowing empty seeds
And we wonder
Why our heads ache
And our shoulders burn
As we busy ourselves
With the burden
Of
Carrying 
Nothing