Not all rights are conferred and ratified in historical edicts;
they are inherent and inferred within the dignity of being human.
Housing may not be a right, but shelter is a basic necessity.
In a country with no minimum wage the poor should be preserved
to ensure that they can cheaply staff the jobs that support cheap imports
and profits of bloated corporations
while earning little, requiring sustenance support from the state.
Break down the statue and sell her for scrap
and tell Miss Lazarus the time has come.
Set up hoppers to feed through low skilled doors
and set expectations at zero and attach the following sign,
‘Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore'
and I'll feed this funnel every day and every night and
wring and grind them for more,
stoking ovens til their bleached bones are bread
resting them briefly with their struggles and hopes,
dull and weighed down as if lead,
til they realize hapless is their truth and birth right
as a cold greasy sun is removed and denied
behind a now vacant plinth, where once shone a light.
You've captured my very thoughts on this subject and I welcome the day when being housed in a decent house, fit for human habitation is a human right....wouldn't that be civilised
Astute evaluation of how far we have strayed from our own ideals.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
You wield your pen as a weapon to fight against the ills of society and to voice for the voiceless! ! A very powerful write! !