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BROKEN FUTURE by Voss, Steffan

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Details | Broken Future Poem | Create an image from this poem.

The Other Side of Work

The Other Side of Work


When from afar you look
  The door of a big office
Tiny hole, an obscure it is
  A little square of an orifice.
Draw near; knock to enter
  Inside Big Guy you’ll find
Commanding heaps of books
  To obfuscate others’ mind.
Wings of Authority spread
  Like Eagle on safe pinnacle
Directing some dire Subjects
  Feet laced on taut manacle.
“A blue chip Firm, this is
  “Trade Cowards make way,
“Shall ye fear being a brigand
  “You’ll not eat yor hay!!”
Big Guys in black robes
  Studied minds to bend
Slaves are flashed by brains
  If they laze or pretend.
Shiny Tables tell tales:
  Souls here meet their Fate
Planned; non-existent Objects
  Toil, Coffers to inflate.
To the fiscus they submit
  Economy to make grow
Sound wealth is sound workers
  Not bleeding them to straw!
A few work for their future	
  Some are toiled and broken
Others have a broken Future;
  To retire with just a token!
A few are worked alright
  Others; minors in their prime
Trapped by naivety of age
  Bleed for an empty dime!
On and on they rant and rave
  The heartbroken to goad
And toil them to near death
  Not to listen to their load.
They then rise up the ranks
  For their loyalty to enslave
Power to deal or despatch
  Of those who “misbehave.”
Who cares for their ambition
 These miserable chaps
Who have unfulfilled need
   To fill up their empty gaps?
To work is good, we all say,
  To be killed at work is bad.
As we relate Boss and Slave
  Stop making another sad.
Man must work to eat, yes
  Why would one savour
Another who works to eat
  With appetite and flavour?

This is the other side of work
We all must start to work!


JM

13th Nov’ 2013
  

	
  


Copyright © Joseph Matose | Year Posted 2013


Details | Broken Future Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Dream Not Come True


Holding on to years 
Gone by kneeling pleading 
To  the younger years for what would
Be a broken future 
Poor broken dreams

Poor me nothing to show
For all the hard work 
Minimum  wage for no knowledge 
Drop out sweaty for head  tired feet 
Head so heavy to rest 

Poor broken dreams 
No way to see come true
Same cycle spinning like a web 
Of mistakes a little to late to learn
As time is racing against me 
Is no wonder I am stuck 
In this would be dream 

Poor me nothing to show 
Reliving the would be dream
Feeling sorry for a bad out bringing 
For the weakness no drive so easy to give up
And not try 
Just getting by day by day 
Pay check to pay check 
With nothing to show for the hard work 
Half a life time dream to proud to beg 
Head held high for trying to make 
A dollar out of fifty cents 
Bad choices coast a life time of broken dreams relived 









Copyright © mirian parrilla | Year Posted 2013


Details | Broken Future Poem | Create an image from this poem.

BROKEN FUTURE

The doubt of future foes exiles my present joy, 
And wit me warns to shun such snares as threaten mine annoy; 
For falsehood now doth flow, and subjects' faith doth ebb, 
Which should not be if reason ruled or wisdom weaved the web. 
But clouds of joys untried do cloak aspiring minds, 
Which turn to rain of late repent by changed course of winds. 
The top of hope supposed the root upreared shall be, 
And fruitless all their grafted guile, as shortly ye shall see. 
The dazzled eyes with pride, which great ambition blinds, 
Shall be unsealed by worthy wights whose foresight falsehood finds. 
The daughter of debate that discord aye doth sow 
Shall reap no gain where former rule still peace hath taught to know. 
No foreign banished wight shall anchor in this port; 
Our realm brooks not seditious sects, let them elsewhere resort. 
My rusty sword through rest shall first his edge employ 
To poll their tops that seek such change or gape for future joy.


Copyright © Steffan Voss | Year Posted 2017