The slowlane lament
I yearn to make some money, I dream of making good
But I'm working for the boss man who only wants my blood.
A slave to weekly working for a lifetime and a day
No thanks, no hope, no freedom, and all for little pay.
There must be more than paying bills until the day I die
and life is surely more than this, it is the reason why
I dream one day retiring, be free and feel alive
But at present rate of earning that's when I'm eighty five.
To think in early childhood my life...
p0stscript's poem
from p0stscript's poem
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