Machinery in the hands of Aristocrats,
Toiling day and night,
Falling short in every way possible,
Always in the middle, middle of nowhere,
Lifetime of working, not because you were in the middle of your academic class,
Working very hard to impress the powers that be,
Multiple exploitation; Laden with bills, multitasking, multiuseful,
Like middle of a sandwich, terribly squeezed from both sides,
Breeding generations of working class, I mean generations of middle class, overtaxed, overburden and overstressed,
Handsomely rewarded with beautiful accolades, such as 'engine of national growth', what a consolation,
Will there ever be a break for the middle class.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem