I used to get up and go to work. I couldn’t afford breakfast; could hardly afford my train. I had holes in my shoes and I was skint. I was the working poor. Poem by Ricky Willis.
The Working Poor
It’s Monday morning, time for work. Off to a job that doesn’t offer any perks.
Here we go again, another week on the grind, minimal pay for 40 hours of your time.
Heading out the door, rushing for the train, you feel the drips on your forehead, as it starts to rain.
Walking down the hill, with holes in your shoes, socks becoming wet, there is nothing you can do.
If only you had bought a pair with that spare cash. Then you become sad, there was no extra cash.
You and your family struggle to make ends meet, but with all the rising prices, it’s hard enough to eat.
You try and do your best, budgeting the best you can, but without any support, it’s hard to have a plan.
As you approach the station, your stomach starts to ache. You missed breakfast this morning, there was no food for goodness sake.
Reaching into your pocket, pulling out a five pound note, you cannot afford a monthly because you’re always bloody broke.
Sometimes you have to walk six miles to work, as you can’t afford the cost! You did mention it to your boss but he doesn’t give a toss.
Walking along the carriage, trying to find a seat. Socks still soaking wet, you finally admit defeat.
You start to shed a tear, you cannot take it anymore. All this struggling and this pain, what’s it really for?
You want to work, you want to provide, you want to do the best. But when that doesn’t feed you or pay the bills what else is there to suggest?
You try and pull yourself together, letting out a roar.
You are absolutely sick of being one of the working poor!
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Awesome poem mate!
freerangeant.com
Lovely poem oneday things will get better.
This is great! I think it really sums up the feelings of many right now. It isn’t easy at all. Thanks for sharing with me on Twitter. You are more than welcome to come over to Prose for Thought on my blog :)
Thank you Victoria, glad you liked it. I really was at a low point when I wrote this as you can probably sense. I have popped over to your blog and linked in :)
You captured your feelings of misery and frustration perfectly. Great scene-setting too – I felt cold reading it. Hope things get better for you soon.
Very moving and am so pleased to have read a more recent blog from you to know that there is hope. Mich x
The quick, light-hearted rhythm contrasts really effectively with the bleak message of the poem. I hope the rain clouds clear sometime soon x
At the time it wasn’t necessarily about the job, it was more about the situation. I enjoyed work but it didn’t give quite enough for us to get by.
Totally agree that wealth is happiness and I am glad I’m much happier now :)