A Laborer of Love
Always read the terms and conditions

You sold me
on the dreams
you had for us
so I signed the contract
without a second thought.
You told me
I just needed
to put in the work
and we’ll be happy.
I just needed
to dig deeper
get personal,
emotional,
and vulnerable
for you to see all
that I tried to bury,
promising me you’d
still love me
unconditionally.
So I picked up a shovel
and put on my gloves
so I could get nice and dirty.
Digging through
the weeds
and the gravel
to please you
and show you
how I was never
afraid or ashamed
to put the work in
and work for you.
No, I meant to say us
because this is what all the
work is for right?
To earn your love
by missing out
on sleep
and putting in
the extra hours
even though I’m tired.
So, I dug mindlessly,
yet with intent
to find your heart
and hold it tightly.
Searching for the warmth
I crave throughout
my lonely nights
with just my now
rusted shovel,
torn up gloves,
and the cracked hands
you told me
are too rough
and too hard
to hold.
Still my hands
remain on the handle
praying that today
would be the day
I strike gold
and feel your gentle touch
and warm embrace,
but I guess
you thought
I was Zero
because no matter how fast
or how many holes I dug
it was never enough.
You just told me
to “keep digging.”
“Look over there,
another place you left
whole and untouched.”
Never caring about
how much blood
seeped through
my gloves,
barely holding on
by a thread,
while you threatened
to cut it
like just another loose end.
And oh yeah,
you’ll never
get tired of
reminding me
how I still ain’t
dug deep enough.
Yet here I stand
with my trusty ol’ gloves
and my shovel barely in hand.
Prepared to prove my love,
hoping today
would be the day
you finally saw just
how deep I’d dug.
But looking around
at all these holes,
I can’t help but wonder
where I started,
how much further
I have to dig,
and how much
of myself
is left to give?
Maybe it’s about time
I realized
that I signed
my life away.
And you’d only hoped
that today would be the day
I dug my own grave.
About the Creator
Andre The First
I write about the things we don't always say out loud: love, loss, self-worth, family, healing, and everything in between. Just trying to make sense of life, one poem and one reminder at a time.
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