Each day runs by.
Pray to the sky,
labouring for peanuts
leaves me broke
I don’t know how long patience will cope.
Lack of care is the subject
I am just a dispensable object.
Management who programme staff
to do incredible tasks,
looking up to see you looking down
finding it amusing
in thinking that they're are better
or I can always be unemployed,
where names truly have no sound.
Compelled to receive this,
a kind of blackmail.