The antelucan obligations start with a clamorous alarm.
Assailing the snooze, he reasons, can do little harm.
He stumbles to the vehicle, fumbling all the while;
nevertheless, he presses on, remaining meek—though not without a smile.
An arduous commute becomes a daily undertaking.
Time is spent on thoughts of family, quietly praying.
The profession of faith is no passing trust—
For in all things endured, belief is a must.
A well‑respected gentleman labors on in obscurity,
even as his wages fill the coffers of Social Security.
The rising cost of needful things adds weight to his load;
Yet his zeal to do better urges him onward upon the road.
The day is long,
hoping all along that nothing goes wrong—
only to make it back home in time for dinner,
then sleep at last, dreaming still of being a winner.
By Hoss Martin (Thursday, March 12, 2026)