It’s one-thirty a.m. Most are asleep
Apart from rust, of course, and you and me
Not far to go till rest; I hope I’ll keep
Asleep long enough so I’ve energy
For yet another working week. But we
Who have our jobs and moan, forget those who
Are young and struggling for equality
In today’s marketplace where jobs are few
Even if qualified. Seems there’s a queue
For anything worthwhile, and the scrap heap
Is where our youngsters are condemned quickly
What will this country be like in a few
More years of this relentless profit creep
Once again, the bosses own you and me
Sun 26 July 2009
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