Endure All You Can, Suck It Up Poem by Mark Heathcote

Endure all you can, suck it up
with malt liquor, bread, and jam
there is bound to be more.
Survival is about carrying these chains
the economic weight of slavery
the chains of being uneducated and poor
don't be-so-sorry
as to be cast out of the loophole entirely,
show some dignity, some deportment.
Or else you're Master he'll not feed you.

Endure all you can, and then some more
endure all you can, suck it up
with malt liquor, bread, and jam
there is bound, bound to be more.
Answer your given number when Master calls.
It's your role, your birthright
black or white, he doesn't care
pay your due boy, or else Master he will sell you
he'll sell you down the river.

And if starvation doesn't-get-you
and if an uncured ailment doesn't kill you
he'll simply, one day
forget you exist, neglect and ignore you?
Yes, you'll be a freeman, a freeman one-day-boy
when you've earned all your stripes and wages.
When you've endured all you can
from that day forwards, then you'll be a free man.

Until then, endure all you can
and then and then some more.
Endure all you can, suck it up until you die
with malt liquor, bread, and jam
Lord, knows there's
bound-to-be more to endure old-man?