The Rat Race

Every day there I am, out there. Smartly dressed, all smiles, like I care. Trying to fit in a world that has no fittings. Standing straight and decent, in spite of my beatings. This world is so cruel, yes I can see. It Stands between me, and what I can be. Am not a human being, but a keeper of rules. I live in a prison with no bars, me and the other fools. It begins in the morning when my eyes open. I am tethered to the wishes of rich old men. Am merely a small peace in an endless game of chess. They move me when and where they wish, and pay me less I am paid just enough to make sure me and my family affords. Small luxuries manufactured by companies of my lords. Soap, cooking oil and some cheap booze. They have everything to gain I have everything to loose. They get their money back whichever the case And I must get back to work to stay in the race. They give bonuses and loans to the fast rats. As they lick their fingers laughing and remaining the fat cats The fat cats in their boardrooms make easy bets. That the fast rats will never in time repay their debts. The fast rats may have scored somewhere around a B plus. But their only place in society will always be the middle class. I am no fast rat, maybe a slow and dirty one. For me I wonder what the cats have in plan. All in know is that everything they discuss in that boardroom. Is not for my welfare , but for my doom. Still dreams flirt with me in my near impoverished state. Like a fool proposing on a blind date. I am so naive to think I can beat the puzzle. For mine is but a mere and struggling hustle. To the fat cats I declare war in form of justice. I won’t stop fighting, kill me if you want peace. For I might soon sire some crying babies to feed. I won’t let their hunger be preceded by your greed. My dreams failed, I will fight for theirs with a passion. I will die than watch them become victims of ration. I may not be living the life I want out there, But the life of my kids is all I am left to cares.