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Jan 2019
A job for life,
   that's what was advertised.
But I was just a penny in the slot.

Mine wasn't as shinny as the others.
     Even though I was on top of my work.
Just because I didn't shine up to those above me.

Ok, I wasn't the silver coin, I wasn't even bronze.
                 But they tainted me, because I wasn't
the right side of a flipped coin.

And just like that I was the penny in the poor box..


Why was I of less worth than those
                       that never excelled..
   I never put a word wrong.
          never gargling *****,
         sniffing the cheeks of brown refuse.

But still I'm in the food bank,
                 like Oliver,

         Can I have some more sir...

I'll never delve to the depravity of others..
         feeding glutinous egos..
        
They can starve, I'll find a worth among
the wasted, and show that I'm more than
what's needed.
                                                I have worth..

But for now I'll be on the bread line,
                cooking my own..
And even though now I've not risen,
         I'll show what time cooks..
I'm more than my last resamay..

I 'll never understand where quality of slavery
            means I'm less of worth...
Poetic T
Written by
Poetic T  On Oblivions Doorstep
(On Oblivions Doorstep)   
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     --- and Poetic T
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