"We Are The Laborers" A Blue Collar Creed

We are the laborers,
we drag ourselves up by the bootstraps before the sun rises,
We return home after the sun has long set.
We pour ourselves into hard work, for in hard work lies the path to self completion.
We are beaten, bruised, banged around, strained, sprained, busted and worn down, and we continue on.
We will complete the tasks at hand, regardless of the scorn or abuse we receive.
We are made of stronger stuff than those of the white collar variety.
They feign struggle within the confines of the climate controlled cubicle, while sipping gourmet coffee.
We work in the cold damp dark places, and the hot sweltering sun, while being fueled by cold water, and hopefully a quick bite to eat once in awhile.
We do not do this to help the Rich Man make another dollar,though if he makes a profit so be it. What he does with his money is no concern of ours. We simply want what is rightfully earned.
Do not mistake our humble appearances and our common ways for stupidity. While our hands may be calloused and coarse,our collars blue, and our necks red, many of us at heart are philosophers and poets, patriots and shepherds, brilliant minds and beautiful souls.
We are the laborers.
We work on the docks, and in the warehouses, in the mills and the factories, behind the counters and under the lifts, because we are the pulse of the Republic. Our labor is a means to an end. It is what puts food on our tables and clothes on our backs.
Every day is a battle, every moment a struggle against time, against bills, against old age, against the Powers of the world that slyly conspire to enslave us while we swing the hammers, and move the freight. We are who we are because of our struggles.
We are the laborers, and proud of it.