A Mason's Song

I had watched scores of men labour to build a luxurious hotel in the heart of the city. It then occured to me that these people will never be able to enter it after the inauguration ceremony. Imagining myself to be one of the masons working on the building, I wrote the following.

A Mason’s Song (15-11-94)

My mates and me, for years three
Had toiled to build thy grace;
And now all know thy owner’s name
But of us masons no one cares.

Thou art a five star hotel called,
An Epitome of luxury;
Whilst we, thy makers, little paid,
Are left to die in penury.

Ere thy were open declared,
Many a night I slept in thee.
Many a night had dinner where
Now am denied entry.

For keeping me away from thee
The richer men I do not blame.
I feel not sad, nor I complain-
But have a feeling I cannot name.