Worth The Dirt

Look at these hands
Which have been scarred, tarred
Feathered, and run out of town
They make the money
Enough to go round.
The skin coverage will always be tough
Callused hide rhyno stuffed,
My touch still soft
Removing skirt
Thick caked nails full of dirt,
If this is what I'm made of
See me at my worth,
From sunrise to sunset
Breaking backs
Bloodshot eyes slowly shut,
Men full of hours
Save minutes for themselves
A sacrifice for life
Same shit everyday blended then melts,
Powering through all the hurt,
Feeling quite unsure
If I was truly worth the dirt,
Needest I dig it no more?