Here we don’t chase no nationalized dream, we run from the reality that those folks chasing the dream run right over us, until it’s time to vote. We don’t have time to dream. Life is too short. Cold weather and sore backs won’t even let us sleep long enough.
We don’t need a hand up or out. We’ll be fine if you just keep your hands out of our pockets and let us keep the money we earn.
Keep our hands free from your fake bracelets. Leave us alone to wave goodbye your peddling laws for the drugs you sponsor. Stop pretending you wanna shake our hand when you’re really shaking us down from our homes to the trap disguised as a convenience store, into the hallways of your schools designed to steal our children’s minds. Keep your hallelujahs, we have our own prayers, and they’re free!
I’m sick of folks attacking the poor. They want something in return for every kindness. You demonize our mothers for a few stamps that fund your economy. You want to trade their piss for some block cheese. You musta forgot all those hypocrites you got for neighbors who got jobs handing out that cheese. You don’t understand the “10 for 10” at your poseur grocery is funded by the subsidies they get receiving all that state money. You don’t understand how many of your neighbors are gonna be movin if we decided to not spend those stamps.
These idiots don’t even know how they benefit from our decision or misfortune to live poor. They don’t even understand that “Targey” they shop at, or that Japanese food joint they enjoy on their lunch break was possible because the company that built it hired temporary laborers a few days a week cause they’d lose money putting those folks on a payroll. They built these homes and businesses on the backs of those kids sucking the milk from those vouchers.
You enjoy those nice positions you got outta hustle, not effort. We ain’t stupid. You locked out everyone who mis stepped and relegated them to poverty so that lazy bastard you raised on microwaved popcorn and video games could have a chance. These entitled little shits couldn’t last a day in our world. They’d be back on your couch in the basement complaining about the tv reception.
The working poor in this country carry the nation. You ain’t building high end homes or businesses without us working to save you dollars as sub contractors or under the table labor. Those taxes you talk about paying that make you so special are made because low wages enable you to keep the flow of money rolling.
It’s cool though. Trading piss for food ain’t a bad deal. Hands dirty from work cleanse the mind, while hands dirty from deeds poison it. Understanding this ignorance from the ground up gives us experience. We nod and smile as you further your dysfunctional ideas as something progressive or conservative. The view don’t change from down here though, all we see is asses.
chrysalaneous 