The white of the room, the sunlight through the window

 His frail blue collared body saved, saved by the hands of a black suited man from the hands of novelty, the hands of technology 

His family took the tram across the city to see him

The iron in the machine caused pain

The iron in his blood, in his heart, his desire to live

But his boss lacked iron, iron hands, his hands were soft

He helped the struggling man into the red cross, to let him see light again

The family took the tram from the blue collar to the homes of the black suits

To see him

Badly hurt, greatly weakened but the iron inside of his heart would not melt

Not to give into human pain and peril

Lying in those white sheets for weeks, but the iron is still in his blood, in his heart

Every minute he fights to survive, fighting for a life, fighting for hope

The iron that runs through his veins, the strength in him

Weeks later his eyes open to see the bright sun light on the windowsill

To hear the laughs of his child, to hug her, his love, to smile gain, to laugh again, to love again