Our day starts usually with work
for eight hours a day
Then home and food
before bed at the end of play
Bills for food, heating
and the like
All these rising
in enormous hikes
Politicians fight
over scraps
Ignoring us all
full belly’s they have
All this a constant
everyday
Mixed with wars
and suffering for which we pay
Will there ever be change
at all?
Will they hear our
Constant call?
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Posted in: Poetry
fhhakansson
October 13, 2012
It’s a vicious cycle we cannot escape. Too bad it’s necessary to get around. At least there’s paid vacation 🙂
Darren Greenidge
October 14, 2012
Yeah, there is that indeed. I try to escape the constants though. I get bored easily of the slave-like way we are all forced to live sadly but there’s always those worse off than yourself as my granddad used to say.