LYRIC

He was too proud
To ask for food
Could not speak up

On allowance;
To nurse his mother
He’d left his job

“Working people, we hear you:
The lazy and the feckless
Will pay for their wrongdoings”

They cut his power
The insulin in the fridge
Was spoiled

His sister found him
Near a pile of CVs
With an empty stomach

“Working people, we hear you"
While those who are voiceless
Make no sound

Working people: are we not
Our brothers and sisters’ keepers?

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