Pickaxe
Tai, Age 15, Ashburn, VA
                      Down it went,
Slamming into hard rock.
Lifted again,
hammered back down,
Rhythmically
with other pickaxes.
Mining a tunnel,
A tunnel of unknown purpose,
A tunnel starting nowhere,
seemingly endless.
They were born in there,
ate in it, slept in it,
drank in it, breathed it,
lived it.
Everything happened in the tunnel.
The sky didnít exist in there,
And it was never to be seen there.
Rumors of blazing sun, shining stars,
a glistening moon,
But all they knew was dirt, stone, sweat,
And pickaxes.
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