The Struggler From Yonder

The very rich and the every poor are better off than the working poor. All through the years I worked. All through the years you’ve worked. All through the heat, cold and blistering snow we labored hard. But no one cares about the working poor.

Evenings, mornings and nights when work is done, I look around and it’s the tiredness, bitterness and suffering on the faces of the working poor. They are waiting for the jam packed trains, overcrowded buses and filled up cars. Poor, tired, overworked people that’s what they are, what we are. Praying to survive but how can we? Didn’t you know almost everything we used to itemize has been taken away?

Wages are the same before you receive your pay. Uncle Sam takes a slice. Put it in the bank and he takes a bite. What is left could not satisfy the mice. Weekly paychecks cannot pay your rent. Bi-weekly paychecks put you in confusion. Rent so high and pay so small, good God some times we cry. No one cares about the working poor. Some depend on over the counter medicine and take a pill per day to keep the aches and pains away.

Mother worked in distress, father worked while problems floated to his breast. He puts his gun underneath his pillow waiting and saying it will be better. Our children suffered and looked underfed. Bills to be paid. The phone is being cut off, and cars are auctioned off, homes are being foreclosed. No one gives a damn. Nobody cares about the working poor. Housing projects are the concrete jungle. They say it is love income for the poor. If you work they chase you through the door. Working folks are sucked dry. Don’t give a damn if we live or die. Over time you cannot do of gaining and extra dollar they raise your rent sky high.

W2 forms they skip through with a fine toothcomb, then bam your down. The working folks paid the project workers and bought their appliances. It’s not a joke, no one cares for the poor working folks. Welfare folk are better off. Some never have to work. Why should they? Doctor bills are being paid, rent never goes up, and food stamps fill their shopping carts to the top. Why should they give up all that to be living off of the nickels and dimes like the working poor? Father frustrated, mother’s soul has been consecrated. Father picked up the loaded gun and placed it to their heads. Bam bam, they’re all dead. It’s the government’s entire fault; no one gives a damn about the working poor.