Build Anyway

The first badge of bricks baked were burnt
Some didn’t even make the oven
But a foundation was still laid.
Shades of brown colour ascending
That’s the exodus.

Blue prints were used to picture this,
Nothing like the present estate,
But its ground swallows more concrete.
When hardwork is the final straw,
Raw faith is the first.

Through our tears we will gather sand
As sweat designs our throbbing veins.
Blisters and sores push through the weight,
Swollen hands itching for pay day.
At last! Beauty Forms.

Vera