Sons Of The Sun

SONS OF THE SUN.


Unsung heroes they are
The undying shadow
But of impact so massive
Their hard work so loud
Their success so silent

Up so early
For marchandise in alley
Some on empty bellies
Others on hurting backs
For dependants to mery

Hammer up, hammer down
The rhythm graces the air
And the sun is their roof
A fusion of art and passion
The city takes shape

With muscle and hope
For bread they work
Ask them for they know
How sweet is sweat
You call them jua kali
I call them sons of the sun
Sailors in their own sweat.

©STUMAH.