Calloused

He'd often contemplate
the greater good
and his contributions
His hands were calloused
and his back suffered
but later, he thought
I will be remembered
My sacrifice now
might mean greatness
in the end
And he'd stop there
think no further
That was all he needed
to maintain his faith
The cogs kept turning
the machine produced
His children
would not be hungry
But the end crept in
subtly at the start,
and then all at once
As a marble
headed for the edge
So he lay there
thinking of a life
of pained productivity
and he told himself
it was for the greater good
and he would be remembered
and it was all he needed