Disgrace
We work all day
for a house and car.
Tarred and feathered
is what we are.
Stuck like Brer Rabbit
trying to get away
from mortgages and loans
and all we pay.
But that's the good
old American way.
We complain and comlain
but have no say.
We need a place to live
and a way to travel
so we pay and watch
our accounts unravel.
The cycle's unending.
The road's too long.
We can't find the end of it.
It's just plain wrong.
The scam is in place
for the tarred, feathered face.
And what we now have
is a damned disgrace.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Added by Poetry Lover
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