The Working Class
I think I hear a train,
better stop, look, and listen,
I must take precautions here,
is there something I am missing?
People talking, but not making any sense,
nothing seems as it should,
now the bad is tolerated,
and doing away with the good.
Laws protect the outlaws,
money passing hands way to fast
rich are getting richer,
who is looking after the working class?
Copyright © Christy Hardy | Year Posted 2008
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment