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Upper Hand


I am a member of the lower orders,
One of those the Tories hate
Poor, unemployed, sick and
Dependent on the Welfare State.
And the officials that I deal with
Fill me with anguish and despair
No kindness or  compassion
No trace of sympathy or care.

They pay me starvation money
Though I refuse to be beaten
if it wasn't for the food banks
Many days I couldn't have eaten.
Now winter is approaching
It's a choice of heat of eat
Being warm in austerity Britain
It seems is seen as a treat.

Day after day we poor sit
And take the constant abuse
From the multi billionaires
Who own and shape our news
I see the folk in power take
Their annual tax   rebate
And wonder if they realise now
Folks liked me are filled with hate.

I see the members of parliament
Growing fat subsidised  by me
And wonder how they are
Christian as they profess to be.
I see the looks on their faces
As though they wonder why
We of the lower orders don't just
Have the decency to go and die.

I'll never ever understand
Why when it's Election Day
So many of the deprived
Will vote for the Tory way
It's as though they are dogs
Looking for fingers to be licked
As they lie there on the ground  
Waiting for their stomach to be kicked.

Their God is in in its heaven
The rich are safe in theirs
As for the poor and deprived
The privileged just don't care.
I am an atheist and a socialist
And I will never understand
How my fellow workers so readily
Allow the privileged the upper hand







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