Harsh Reality. Poem by PAUL COLVIN
Harsh Reality.
Where’s the soup, where’s the meat?
There’s nothing here for us to eat!
We cannot work so don’t get paid
And money gets the table laid.
So tell me how we feed ourselves?
An empty fridge with empty shelves
So cold in here, no heating on
They cut us off, the money’s gone.
Saturday, September 24, 2011
Topic(s) of this poem: money
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8/28/2026 9:55:50 PM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
