image

The Bitter Sauce

The feeling is like invisible wires
Wrapped dangerously around my throat
Tightening painfully but not totally choked
–
Applying pressure little by little
Though its close I can’t black out
Dangling precariously at the edge of my scope

–
Busily doing math in my mind
32 minus 97 is negative 65
With zero to bridge the deficit
–
Checking fractions of shared time
40 hours work plus 10 in overtime
Subtract rest, equals no personal time
–
My back against the wall and sure
That hand to mouth only applies
When the bills don’t take it all
–
Poverty is the bitter sauce
Soaking my honest bread
Starving the working poor in false pretences
–
Pretending to be grateful for one
Drop of water in the bottom of my bucket
That evaporated long before I got to it
–
Pretending to be pleasant with
Your customers here for the service
Smiling for my pay cheque to earn your profits
–
Pretending that the pressure
Is any easier to bear in silence
While the  cold wire around my neck tightens
–
Pretending to not be dissatisfied
While disguising my bravery
Determined to escape this modern day slavery

Ria – 2015

Advertisements