The Plight of Subordinates

Time's pages are turning; folks are churning A better butter, worth bread's hard earning Its unmistaken; bacon is burning In thin, cheap, tin pans but we're all learning Somehow, minimum wage is "all the rage" Scavenge or squander, for this is the age The century turns and the mass discerns That our taxes smoke and our money burns Hard work for many, enjoyment for few Makes us unseen; faded! A weak, frail blue Of collars while we passively earn our dollars Of greens dimmer than wind's grimmer hollers Don't stutter in the street, fluttering fleet! Ban that bullying bureau thunder beat And drum for the sum of a good , fair share And a sequel of equal value and flair