The Brick Layer

He lays bricks methodically,
One by one as he carefully takes measurements,
Occasionally,
He would step aside,
And admire the work of his hands.
He is the brick layer.

Day in,
Day out,
He is at the site,
Working quietly and for long hours,
Laying bricks,
Building houses,
Building dreams,
For other people.
With mortar and bricks,
He fashions apirations of people,
Into solid and concrete dwellings.
He is the brick layer.

But time has come and gone,
Years have found the brick layer still laying bricks,
He has built so many houses,
He has made so many dreams come true for so many people,
Now, when will the brick layer build his own dreams?
Now, when will the brick layer
build his own stone house?
When? When Mr. Brick layer?
You have grown too old now Mr.

You see, our brick layer still lives in a tin house despite building so many beautiful and impressive houses for so many people over the years.
You scare me Mr Brick Layer,
I am afraid of building other people’s dreams,
If it means that I will never build my own dreams.
I have dreams but they almost die,
Every other morning,
Whenever I catch the sight the brick layer at the site,
Busy building yet another dream not his,
Busy building yet another house not his,
Yet his house is falling apart,
Yet his dreams lie dormant,
The brick layer,
You making me ponder and wonder,
At the futility of life’s efforts…

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