Fruits of Labor

I’d love to taste the fruits of my labor

All my corporate exertion landing me in the same seat

But immune to my mother’s childhood labor on her feet

Carrying the weight of woven baskets filled with fruits

10 years to get a taste of her labor

All my torment in the comfort of my home

That I’m one lost paycheck away from losing

They say homelessness has never been so bad

Never been this much of a norm

One of the burdens I think about often

I’d love if they could taste the fruits of their labor

Wish they had a home to be tortured in

At least they’d be on the cusp of more suffering

Maybe they’d have more grit than me

I hope when my body decays

It only nurtures the soil

So you can eat the fruits of your labor