In the morning chill and hot summer day,
She sat in the dust,
Breaking stone on the roadside.
Breathing coal-tar fumes,
And eating dust-coated bread.

His innocent eyes watched year after year,
Right from when she carried him and left him there to
weep or laugh, but he let her work.

The stones were his bed and the stones were his games.
Stone he learnt to chew and stone he dreamt.

Today he is a man.
His stony hands break many necks.

The people of the town call him a stone-hearted man.
What they do not realize is, he is what they have made him;
and he is giving to the world what he got from it.