LatinosUSA

When the Sun Sets on Minimum Wage
by Khaley Dela Rama

The sun sinks behind the rusted gate,
gold spilling on backs bent and sweating.
We clock out when the streetlights flicker,
coins rattling like loose promises in our bags.

The jeepney waits, half full —
our pockets are emptier still.
The city murmurs of dreams we borrow
we cannot keep.
We trade hours, bones, Sundays—
sacrifices that are not little,
while the future drifts out of reach
like dusk slipping through fingers.

Payday comes —
a sunset that repeats itself,
a week’s worth of labor gone
before it can root and bloom.
No savings, no pension,
just children learning too soon
on how to run faster than the dark.

Yet tomorrow we rise —
turn dawn into another night,
carrying the sun on our shoulders,
always chasing
what we never quite catch.

Author’s Bio

Dipolog’s own Khaley is more than a social work student; she’s a weaver of words and worlds.As a poet and filmmaker, she paints narratives of love and life, from everyday rhythms tosocio-political currents, finding her voice in collectives like DIPAG INK, LAYA MANILA and REALPOINT RECORDS. Through her art, she bridges personal stories with societal threads, creatinga vibrant tapestry that speaks to the soul.Social Media Account:FB page: Khaley Dela RamaInstagram: @khaleydelaramaTiktok: @khaleydelarama