Unbothered - Process Your Anger about the Human Condition

Unbothered

Ah, it would be great
If we could go back to
Those heady days when
We ran filthy factories
Attracting myriad mendicants
Applying for menial jobs.
So invigorating when
We could do whatever we
Wanted to do, unbothered.
Stripping people of their dignity,
Paying them nothing for it
While our assistants wheeled
Carts of cash to the bank and
We sat by the pool smoking
Imported cigars and
Sipping fine whiskey.
One can only hope.


 
You can support my work, because poetry matters.


Leave a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Poetry by Guy Farmer