Poem. The rich wouldn't be rich-without the poor.
We live in a world full of greed and deceit,
Where the poor man grovels at the rich man's feet.
The rich live a life of luxury, the poor struggle to make ends meet.
With the queues to the food banks trailing down the street.
Those who have a job, are working for nothing.
Taxed to the breaking point, yet still that's not enough.
Rent, bills, food, heating, and...something.
No money left over, scaping by to get to work.
This is the path of the common man, no easy life for us.
And sure, it could be worse.
I could be the homeless man, sleeping outside with nowhere to hide.
Cold, rain, wet, and...something.
Sitting there on his own, made to feel like nothing.
I'm glad I'm not the homeless man, but that's why he's there.
To make sure we're all aware, that things could be worse.
To evoke appreciaton towards the shitty life's we lead.
Too many bills, and hungry mouths to feed.
Work. Eat. Sleep. Repeat.
We live in a world full of greed and deceit.