To Purchase The Moon

I sacrificed the sun
To purchase the moon
Working hard
From dusk to noon

But all you see
Is me locked away
Stuck in my room
Unable to play

I’m trading my time
For you to live
It’s the only thing
I’m able to give

I’m so sorry son
I know you need more
You need more of me
Of that I’m sure

I hate how this world
Forces us apart
I long for the days
I could apprentice you to my art

But that would just be
A different kind of pain
What if you didn’t want
To work in my same vein?

Thus my attempt
To lift you high as I can
I want you to become
A fulfilled and happy man

There is no right answer
Beyond a cry and a shrug
Other than to read you a nightly story
And depart with a hug

Just know I’m always thinking
Of you and your brother
I love you both
You two and your mother

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This poem, and the book it came from ‘Wage Slave: The Unpaid Overtime Edition’ as a whole represents my feelings about all that is wrong with the world - or at least the version of the world that I have occupied.

No longer do we live in small communities where we know our neighbours, where our kids are cared for by the collective, and work and life are inextricably interconnected.

No longer does our labour directly relate to our survival - this comes at a cost, both to the individual as well as to the family unit.

I love my children, but am caught between providing enough money for them to survive, versus giving them my time.

I am aware that there is no right answer and that most parents likely feel this way. Still, it is painful to see my son desperate to play, only for me to have to reject his requests and return back to work.

Read another piece from Wage Slave: The Unpaid Overtime Edition
Out now: paperback, eBook and audio book.