How shall we serve
the working class?
Put them in place
let’s kick their ass.

They cry out for wages
say, what they deserve
ask for the main meal
give them hors d’oeuvres.

A hole in the ground
or concrete and bricks
a warehouse or factory
turning out tricks.

They’ll work them all
and take all the licks.
they’ll assemble our world.
with shovel and pick

But they built our homes
and fashioned our clothes
endless production lines
like soldiers in rows.

With expensive shoes
we tread them down
we work them all
into the ground.

Let me tell you this
My honourable man
they get the bacon
we get the ham.

And if we don’t
we have no wealth
there are no producers
among ourselves.

We cannot weave
lay brick or fix
fashion steel
or metals mix.

Nor break our backs
from dawn to dusk
and our offspring
they never must.

Working classes
will feed our lives
to slave for us
our husbands and wives.

Keep your reins tight
my upper-class friend
or this could all come
to a very sad end.

Do you really want
to better yourself?
then learn your place
and reap your wealth.

D Marsden © 2022

Published by Dave's Poetry & Mystery...

Hi. I am a retired builder. Born in 1954. My interests are: motorcycling, cycling, woodworking, wood carving, visiting countryside, reading, writing poetry, short stories, writing mystery and of course my new interest is blogging.

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