Never done

Day after day, pushing
substance from way.
Outside holds no sway
of course, to pay.

Construction workers
tire not, the tunnels
are great from
filth and rot.

Knowledge comes
from within, born
as organs fit,
in pits caved in.

The endless race
quiet never,
to end is sin,
much the better.

Such life on strife
as the rain sets in,
work remains constant
to punch up grins.

Would you care to step in?