© Reserved 2005 onward, United Kingdom
Screen Composition 1024 x 768
Screen Composition 1024 x 768
Chapter Five
Author: Nigel G Wilcox 07.11.14
Promises, Promises
Another year one reflects, the politicians and the corruptive 'ness
The businesses, the bankers are still blasé
Lying and cheating, with talk, today, deceit…
I, just a man in the street, looking for work
Sits at a computer, turning pages of agency fodder…
Zero working hours, from those without conscience,
Reciting the statement, “Does one live to work, or Work to live?
What rewards do we have and what incentives are breached
A can of beans, a generous neighbour, there is hope around this table,
An existence within a ‘rich’ country…
However, hope is removed by politicians
Hope, the last anchor point of humanity…
Layoffs, from factories, technology dictates, short sightedness
The politicians, the company bosses, with their feathered nests…
Cannot see or they choose to ignores the rest.
Without workers with pay, one cannot ignore,
Who will buy the goods, at the local store?
They too will be no more….
Derelict buildings, ghost towns and crime
This will empty all pockets in time….
The walls will crash and burn, blood in the streets
A quote heard once before, by a politician, that is no more….
Perhaps, this politician was before their time
And could foresee the writing on the wall?
European Union the bailiffs knocking at the door, smells a small success
And wants more for more,…
The ‘lone sharks’ want the laws, the income, the power galore.
Not the independent common markets, fair trade for us all!
The low memberships payments, distorted for those in the know…..
Or was it the eager politician listening to rhetoric,
Seeing the personal benefits, mortality…
Signing the dotted lines, without reading it.
The attitude, the tax payer will pay at least ‘one truth’ we cannot deny…
School leavers and those over fifty no future, no retirement, working for the state,
Sounds familiar, where is the Berlin Wall now, one hesitates….
Blurred lines, not set in stone,
Our employees, they write the cheques
Based on promises they break.
If it were you or I, we would be on a bike, rolling out of the gate!
Something wrong with this notion and one asks
What is left….
The businesses, the bankers are still blasé
Lying and cheating, with talk, today, deceit…
I, just a man in the street, looking for work
Sits at a computer, turning pages of agency fodder…
Zero working hours, from those without conscience,
Reciting the statement, “Does one live to work, or Work to live?
What rewards do we have and what incentives are breached
A can of beans, a generous neighbour, there is hope around this table,
An existence within a ‘rich’ country…
However, hope is removed by politicians
Hope, the last anchor point of humanity…
Layoffs, from factories, technology dictates, short sightedness
The politicians, the company bosses, with their feathered nests…
Cannot see or they choose to ignores the rest.
Without workers with pay, one cannot ignore,
Who will buy the goods, at the local store?
They too will be no more….
Derelict buildings, ghost towns and crime
This will empty all pockets in time….
The walls will crash and burn, blood in the streets
A quote heard once before, by a politician, that is no more….
Perhaps, this politician was before their time
And could foresee the writing on the wall?
European Union the bailiffs knocking at the door, smells a small success
And wants more for more,…
The ‘lone sharks’ want the laws, the income, the power galore.
Not the independent common markets, fair trade for us all!
The low memberships payments, distorted for those in the know…..
Or was it the eager politician listening to rhetoric,
Seeing the personal benefits, mortality…
Signing the dotted lines, without reading it.
The attitude, the tax payer will pay at least ‘one truth’ we cannot deny…
School leavers and those over fifty no future, no retirement, working for the state,
Sounds familiar, where is the Berlin Wall now, one hesitates….
Blurred lines, not set in stone,
Our employees, they write the cheques
Based on promises they break.
If it were you or I, we would be on a bike, rolling out of the gate!
Something wrong with this notion and one asks
What is left….
