Hammering At The Iron Wall

My knuckles are bloody
My head is raw
but I keep hammer hammer hammering
at this iron wall
hoping to make a dent
hoping to push on through
to something better,
a piece of yellow light
on the other side.

No rest
in my days of turmoil.
All I can do is hammer hammer hammer
through the mud and rust,
and dream of peace,
trust I'm getting somewhere
in this storm,
seeking a brush of heat,
seeking dawn.

© Mark Sheeky. Permission is required for reproduction.