• Author: B-6815
• Editor: B-6591
• Newspaper: The Umpire volume 2
• Page Number:
• Date: 12 17 1913
• Tags:
• poetry
• prison labor

AMONG THE POETS THE WORKERS Within these prison walls confined, Labor many men, of many minds Some are working at their task; Others working with the last. Some make tidies, some make shawls— A few are wrestling with the awls. A number rolling time away, Making cigars day by day, They are satisfied to be, Wrapping up to-ba-kee. Strong men bending in a row, They are punching out the dough, In a room of too much strife, They are making the staff of life. In the fire-room—what's this I see? The needle points to ninety-three! And if the steam should take a fall, The stoker sure would get a call. In the wash house men of woes Makee pasttime, washee clothes. These are men of the fleeting hour, Working with the Arm-strong power, In this famous launde-ree, There's no such man as "One-Lung-Lee," Here they wash 'em, while you wait— All are working for the State, Weavers, weaving all the day Working hard to earn their pay. Action puts in them some mettle; All are busy throwing shuttles. To the man who weaves the sheeting— To him I send a "Chrismas Greeting." —B 6815