Hamster Wheel

Clothes eaten by moths,
Future stolen by toffs,
Hunger is exhausting, it’s true.
But it’s hard to riot,
When your stomach won’t quiet,
And your shoes are held together with glue.

Aching feet, heat or eat,
Surviving is no mean feat
When you’re done before you’ve even begun.
But it’s hard to fight back,
When you can’t afford the sack,
And you’re too tired to even have fun.

“The economy’s bad,
And yeah homelessness is sad,
But there’s nothing that we can do,”
Says the MP who ate,
Indeed cleaned the plate,
Of a £45 breakfast, on you.

They seem to hold power
Because we work every hour
Scraping around for every penny
But it’s time to down tools
Because they treat us like fools
And they are few, and we are many.

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Author: Victoria Pearson

Victoria Pearson lives behind a keyboard somewhere in rural Bedfordshire, with her husband, her four children and her dog. She writes very strange stories.

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