You never come back. <br />I say good-by when I see you going in the doors, <br />The hopeless open doors that call and wait <br />And take you then for—how many cents a day? <br />How many cents for the sleepy eyes and fingers? <br /> <br />I say good-by because I know they tap your wrists, <br />In the dark, in the silence, day by day, <br />And all the blood of you drop by drop, <br />And you are old before you are young. <br />You never come back.<br /><br />Carl Sandburg<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/mill-doors/
