The magnificent sun is shining bright
Flooding the natural earth with white light
My emotions are immersed in anger
My strength is usurped by pangs of hunger
I think of years of economic boom
While I am leaning over an old broom
Right in the middle of the room that I sweep
I strive to put more efforts not to weep
Digestion systems in the stomach grind
Prompting signals of despair in my mind
I think to leave the club of sun-seekers
As I take turns between sweeping and breaks
I hear the highly screeching sound of brakes
As the bus driver brings it to a halt
Near the beer hall that sells the beer of malt
I decide to make short rhymes in rumbles
As I decide to do no more grumbles
Because on the table that will put no bread
But I have great strength of a thoroughbred
To carry me through the longest thoroughfare
Because I have no pennies for bus fare
But I have to follow the job-seekers