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John Edward Smallshaw
Poems
Jul 31
The usual Friday
You work your fingers to the bone
and what do you get?
bony fingers
but we all know it
and if we don't we should
it's a case of
'Buddy can you spare a dime'
and in another time
maybe
but
we've been left holding the baby
and it's a right little *******.
Vote them in
and
they'll carry you out
because you died of the cold,
but you're old
and they don't care about you.
Written by
John Edward Smallshaw
68/Here and now
(68/Here and now)
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