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Graff1980 Nov 2020
A patriot, a service man
stood proud and let his
American flag fly.

Served his nations
when they called,
distinguished service
and honorably discharged.

A purple heart
with some PTSD,
told his family
the V.A. would
take good care of me.

The president and congressmen
upped the military budget by billions,
and as soon as that passed
went ahead and tried to get
servicemen’s health care cut.

Man, America doesn’t give a ****
about any of us.

Well, he pinched and saved
for most of his days,
struggling to get by.

Worked very hard
to finally start
a business that was
close to his heart.

Every year he barely managed
to make ends meet,
but was grateful to be
in this land of opportunity
where he could support his family
doing what he loved.

A virus closed almost
all of the businesses
in his neighborhood,cont.
so the government
said they would
bailout small businesses like his,
passed a billed
swore the promise
was fulfilled,
but he never saw a cent,
from the federal government,
cause almost all that aid
went to help out
major party donors.

Man, America doesn’t give a ****
about the man who runs
a small business.

One kid grew up
trying to live up
to his parent’s expectations;
Got a fast-food job
while he was in high school,
then worked his way through
to go to a good college.
Four years and student loans
got him out in the world
and on his own.

Got a decent job,
to pay down the debt,
but along the way he
became really sick,
and the health insurance
barely covered a fraction of it.
Now he is drowning
in an ocean of bills,
from disease that may still
**** him,
and his prescriptions
are practically poison.

It’s a cold hard fact
that this country lacks
real human decency.
Should have learned by now,
we are just the fatted cows
that are culled to feed corporate greed.

Man, America doesn’t give a ****
about you or me.
Dante Rocío Oct 2020
The inclination
Towards domestic superiority
Does not refund
Ideals lost at discarded gambles.
Stygian kin browser,
Rest abode,
No lark made your path.
Leave the tie bloodshed
At the desk (once)
Home torn
A short cordial yet coolish prompt on a business noir photo as white collars break and have no foundance anymore inside the sight
Naveen Malhotra Oct 2020
My dear student
You respect me
With folded hands
I have evaluated
Your maths paper
I don't wish to
Disappoint you
To give you the respect
You deserve
I have invented a method
A method of marking papers
I have given you
49 with a square root (√49) out of 50
I don't wish you
You excel in studies
And go for higher learning
This is in your interest
And in the interest of my country
We have enough of
White collared people
Blue collared are needed
You can make an excellent
Skilled worker
With some practical training
With folded hands
You will please
Your bosses
With your skillful hands
You will build my country
I shall be proud of you
Once you were my student!
Nandini yadav Jun 2020
औरों को दे महल बनाकर
ख़ुद झोपड़ में रहता है
बात करें हम आज श्रमिक की
जिसकी व्यथा न कोई समझता है।
      
      भर के आँखों में सपने
       वो गाँव छोड़कर आता है
       शहर की चकाचौंध भरी दुनिया में
       ख़ुद को अनजाना पाता है
       सारे दर्द समेट के अंदर
       बाहर से मुस्कुराता है
       बात करें हम आज श्रमिक की
       जिसकी व्यथा न कोई समझता है।

जेठ की जलती गर्मी हो
या हो जाड़े की मार
मुश्किल भरे हालातों में भी
न माने कभी वो हार
चंद मज़दूरी की ख़ातिर
दिन रात वो मेहनत करता है
बात करें हम आज श्रमिक की
जिसकी व्यथा न कोई समझता है।
      
       परिश्रम करता सबसे ज्यादा
       फिर भी दुत्कारा जाता है
       करोड़ों कमाने वाले मालिक से
       ख़ुद समय पर पगार न पाता है
       फिर भी करता न उफ़ कभी
       चुप-चाप सब सहता जाता है
       बात करें हम आज श्रमिक की
       जिसकी व्यथा न कोई समझता है।

मजबूर हो गए आज श्रमिक
जब कोई मदद न करता है
वापस अपनों से मिलने
वो मीलों पैदल चलता है
पैर में पड़ गए मोटे छाले
फिर भी उसके कदम न हारे
देख के ऐसी हिम्मत उसकी
ख़ुद कहर भी दंग रह जाता है
बात करें हम आज श्रमिक की
जिसकी व्यथा न कोई समझता है।

         www.youtube.com/miniPOETRY

                 Labor agony

Make others a palace
He lives in a hut
Talk about labor today
No one understands the agony ..
Dreams in all eyes
He leaves the village
In the dazzling world of the city
Finds himself a little unknown
Inside all the pain
Smiles from outside
Talk about labor today
No one understands the agony ..
Hot summer
Or be winter
Even in difficult conditions
Never believe that every
For the sake of a few wages
Day and night he works hard
Talk about labor today
No one understands the agony ..
Works hard the most
Is still rebuked
From a boss who earns crores
Do not pay on time
Never does oops ever
All is silent
Talk about labor today
No one understands the agony ..
Today the workers were forced
When no one helps
To go back to the village
He walks for miles
Thick ulcers in the leg
Still don't lose his steps
Seeing this courage
Amber also bends down
Talk about labor today
No one understands the agony of ...
दोस्तों इस कविता में हमने बात की है समाज के उस वर्ग की जिसके बारे में कोई बात नहीं करना चाहता अर्थात श्रमिक और मज़दूर वर्ग। ये ऐसा वर्ग है जो बहुत ही कठिन परिश्रम करके अपना और अपने परिवार का पेट भर पाते हैं।
यह कविता  श्रमिक के जीवन और उसकी मन की व्यथा को को समझने का एक छोटा सा प्रयास है।

Hello friends...If u want more poetries follow me on my youtube channel
www.Youtube.com/miniPOETRY
Rhiannon Apr 2020
With the grunts and groans of a wakening morn,
A small ball of resentment, fire and scorn,
There are heavy bags haunting your face,
Time goes by on a clock but there is no race.

Days and moments mesh together,
For the dumb, oblivious, ignorant and clever,
Nothing is separate one by one,
Awaken, eat, sleep, done.

The ignorant march out in hordes and laugh,
At the cautious hidden behind masks and glass,
As the docile watch from somewhere in the middle,
Eat, work, sleep little.

Remembrance of the workers clad in cloth,
Their work deemed essential until very last cough,
Mindless sit on stones along the beach,
Whilst the sun cooks their skin, face and feet.

"I'll be ****** if I'm staying in!" someone shouts,
A reckless, stupid, ignorant lout,
Struts into the shop and buys a lazy spa,
Oh how productive, thoughtful and intelligent you are.

Then the workers travel home by train, car or bus,
Get through their front door and take their shoes off with a huff,
Sigh because tomorrow is yet another day,
Trying to persuade morons to simply stay away.
Star BG Mar 2019
I MOVE as prayer warrior
traveler from distant lands
to make things right
inside expansion of life.
Light enters cells with breath
as I’m readied to stand
on platform
of love.
I STAND as love warrior
to be instrumental in bringing
the world to higher vibrations
of harmony as ment to be.
Visions for peace and joy osculate,
as dreams integrate
into present time.
I stand. You stand.
We stand
committed to get this planet
realigned with our space brothers and sisters
with our sacred Mother Earth
with our birthrights inside freedom.
Time to celebrate
as we recall we are children of light
in this our changing world.
Just drifting in thought on a Saturday morning. Happy day all.
Herselfher Feb 2019
She was a worker
After all she had demands
She didn’t like to ask for help
She didn’t need a man
Yet, she suffered every day
Longing for a hand
To guide her
And make her understand
Maybe, even be her biggest fan
Motivate her, man!
Star BG Oct 2018
Today I liberate my heart.
standing in breath to celebrate moment.
My heart races with excitement
merging with birds in flight.
Senses come alive,
as lies fall to the waste-side
and freedom is mine.

Today I activate crown on head
as charka pulsates to usher in wisdom
and expand consciousness.

Feet feel grounded with joy to dance
merging with sacred breath.
Senses are balanced taking in new energies
as freedom sings.

Today, I am living as an authentic human.
Moving with a reached out compassionate hand
And goal to live the path of a light-worker.
saw words liberate the heart and thusly the poem was born. Blessings to all.
Emerson Nosreme Sep 2018
How do I explain
To the person who is supposed
To help me with 'any problems'
That they are the problem?
Quick question (read the poems... Yeah the story is true)
Priyendra Singh Aug 2018
Placing my life on a bet
I lay on a motel bed
With heart pounding
And long loud emotional howling
That screams at the ****** inside me.
All throughout the act
I remain ‘inert’
While that pervert!
Gags and squirt.

Forcibly moaning
So as to earn a loaf of bread
for a family whose chieftain is dead.
This is the reason why I lay on bed.

Despite all this they make me culpable
Knowing very well with this I am feeding incapable.
If this is the law then answer me whether in true sense it is justifiable?

My only cry is my body has been taken for far too long
Does anybody want to take my heart along?
This poem is about *** worker who is currently undergoing court trial for engaging in an immoral act and obscene act. This poem tries to convey message of that *** worker.
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