The fading sound within the empty air
is moaning from the men beside the streets.
That foggy sight sequestered over there
is women working with some elbow grease.
The men suited in orange yellow vests--
directing drivers as they pave the roads--
the men who build with pride within their chests
are men who exhale labor from their goads.
The women geared in loosely blue jumpsuits
constructing with their skillful brilliant hands,
the women welding in their leather boots
are women who hold grit at their commands.
These men and women drenched in sweat and tears,
are moaning folks who sing upon my ears.
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