Read the poem below and answer the questions that follow.
Your nails are black with dirt, brother
And your palms are clammy with sweat
I refuse to take the hand you extend in help
I shall not join hands with you brother
For unclean hands make me uneasy
For filthy fingernails rob me of my pride.
You argue, gesticulating with your once
Impeccably clean and beautiful hands
That before long it shall not matter
For ‘everybody’ is delving and digging
And all shall have hands dripping with dirt.