He works like a slave, six days a week,
To keep the  wolf at bay.
Austerity has hit him hard, his penance  every day.

The "Establishment" says it has no choice,
Tough measures must ensue.
He's considering the food bank for his child is thin and blue.

His dignity is all but lost, like feathers in the wind.
His hope Is torn to ragged shreds,
His eyes are hollowed, tinged with red.

He sheds a tear for all the dreams now shattered shards like glass.
His path a rocky desolate grind,
Secure as smoke rings in his mind.

He knows what dark hell lies ahead, the torture that awaits,
His fragile human life seems cheap,
Once used,  discarded on the heap.