The Weight and Worth of Wage

Beyond the stark arithmetic, the figures neatly penned,

more than crisp paper rustling, or the coins that briefly lend

a fleeting weight within the palm, a promise to unfold,

a wage embodies silent hours, a story to be told.

It is the precious currency of time, meticulously traded,

for the primal needs that bind us, the sustenance we've braided

into the fabric of our days: for bread upon the board,

for the fragile glow of lamplight, a haven to afford,

a sturdy roof to ward the storm, where weary spirits rest,

a basic power humming softly, putting anxieties to test.

It sculpts the very contours of a life, the space where roots descend,

in bustling urban canyons where hurried footsteps blend,

or in the tranquil hush of landscapes, where quietude resides,

a wage determines circumstance, where destiny presides.

A fair wage blossoms outward, nurturing a family's art,

igniting aspirations, playing a foundational part

in building dreams, both grand and small, a future to embrace,

while unfair pay, a silent thief, leaves lives in disarray and chase.

It frays the edges, tears the seams of hope and aspiration,

leaving behind a hollow ache, a gnawing desperation.

It grants the key to knowledge, buys the volumes yet unread,

it fills the hungry bellies, banishing the daily dread.

It swings the gilded portal wide, where opportunity takes flight,

or slams it shut with brutal force, extinguishing the light.

For some, it acts as buoyant wings, a gentle, upward soar,

while others feel its crushing weight, a burden to endure,

a cycle etched in weary souls, a heritage of strain,

a relentless current flowing, like sorrow through the vein.

Where opulence accumulates, a dazzling, careless gleam,

and empathy's soft whisper fades into a distant dream,

a widening abyss appears, a stark and cruel divide,

where basic human dignity is carelessly denied.

The wage, a stark demarcation, dictates who can truly share

in common wealth and comfort, breathing a less burdened air.

It echoes deep within the soul, a judgment sharp and keen,

revealing raw injustice in the spaces in between,

where rights are trampled, voices hushed, and equity takes flight,

drowned in the rising tide of greed, obscuring what is right.

Yet from the depths of struggle, a resilient spirit springs,

a chorus of defiance that the weight of hardship brings.

No longer bowed by crushing toil, their voices start to climb,

not seeking mountains made of gold, transcending selfish clime,

but yearning for a balance true, where fairness can reside,

demanding simple dignity, where human worth's espied.

A chance to rise above the fray, to cultivate their being,

a fundamental right they claim, a future worth the seeing.

When laws are thoughtfully remade, with wisdom as their guide,

and empathy's warm currents flow, where callous hearts once hide,

when hands unite in common cause, to build a world anew,

where equitable foundations rise, and justice sees us through,

we'll lift the wage to meet the very essence of our need—

not just to scrape existence by, on meager, scattered seed,

but to cultivate our inner selves, to flourish and create,

to weave a tapestry of progress, sealing a better fate.

For fair compensation's deeper worth, no simple sum can hold,

it is the radiant beacon bright, on pathways yet untold.

It fuels the eager intellect, the artistry of hand,

the dedication to one's craft, throughout the weary land.

A living wage, a human start, where potential can ignite,

a cornerstone of thriving lives, bathed in equitable light.