My Lasting Minutes

A hole in the ground, dark and round,
Where pain and suffering can always be found

Mining precious metals, the cost is high,
A test of strength, a struggle that cannot be denied

Blood and sweat, part of the work,
Weaklings can't survive, only the strong can lurk

Some find joy in the underground,
With the sounds of machines, trains and explosives' sound

But many have lost their lives there,
Their memory remains, engraved everywhere

In the end, the stone is recovered,
In the form, people know and love, forever

Every time you see that gold ring,
Remember those who worked, with every mining swing.