They sat around in the boardroom smoking their big cigars
“Gentlemen we have to save these bonuses of ours”
We need to tighten the belt, and cut the fat
Now it is time to step up to the bat
We have one with a family and a home
And one that lives alone
And if the family man ends up homeless
Well at least we saved our bonus
Well it is the sign of the times
When companies ask for money from their private jet
While the average person is on the street hustling for dimes
The bosses just sit around and just don’t understand things yet
© JPM 2/8/09
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem