The Worker

You blame the unions,

You blame the American worker,

Moving your plants overseas.

~

You say we want too much.

Is a decent quality of life too much,

A living wage to raise our families.

~

You take no blame on yourself,

Your greedy shareholders,

Gnarled hands outstretched,

Grasping for a greater piece of the pie.

~

You cry, profits are down;

Consumers aren’t buying!

You take our jobs away

Giving them to those in the third world.

~

No job, no money, no spending,

Where is your logic?

You ask for more from us

Giving us less for our labors,

Yet our bleeding is still not enough.

~

Our blood, our sweat means nothing,

No longer are we people,

No longer do you show us loyalty.

~

Profits reign king in your corrupt world

And we are merely paupers,

Struggling in your greed poisoned kingdom.

~

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

 

Boarded Windows

Boarded windows,

Graffiti covered,

Paint peeling,

Chain link rusted,

Grass overgrown,

Strewn with litter,

Sidewalks cracked,

Shutters hanging,

Door unhinged,

Doorbell silent,

No one home,

For Sale sign,

Bank owned,

No ones buying,

House after house,

Block after block

City after city,

All the same,

Plant closed,

Jobs left,

Gone for good,

Overseas,

What to do

Same old question,

Same old answer,

No food,

No home,

No job,

No one cares.

~

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

Buddy Can You Spare A Dime

By D. R. DiFrancesco

The alarm rings,

Pastie mouthed, joints aching,

Swinging my legs off the bed,

Damn arthritis,

The cold is killing me.

I rub my eyes to wipe away the blur,

Standing in line to use the bathroom,

It wasn’t always this way.

Looking over my shoulder,

Bedroll, pair of pants and a shirt,

All I have left to my name,

Insignificant to most,

Something to fight for.

A hot meal,

Maybe the last for the day,

An assembly line of the wretched,

Like dogs fighting over scraps of meat,

Degrading and demoralizing.

Back to the street,

Bedroll under my arm,

Wearing everything I own.

More stares,

People pass by,

Eye contact would make me human,

I was an accountant for God’s sake,

I had a wife,

Left when times got tough,

I have kids,

They think Daddy’s gone away.

No surprise work is hard to come by,

One set of cloths,

Infrequent showers,

Unshaven,

Politicians want us to pull ourselves up by the bootstraps,

What bootstraps,

I wouldn’t hire me?

Panhandling,

For money, food, drink, and the occasional odd job,

Pennies, rocks, and insults are thrown my way,

I’m not a bum,

I’m you, one hospital bill away,

One hospital bill and you are me.

Maybe I’ll get a hot meal tonight,

Shelter,

A warm bed,

Maybe I won’t,

Look in the mirror,

Who do you see?