"Liberal elites don’t have a clue about the white working class." The Washington Post

We occupy space
Vicariously
Some days hanging
On by our finger tips
Scared to look down 
Or up
We hover on a magic carpet
Of hope 

That things will finally get better
That Rita will be offered a council flat
But the man says Afghan asylum seekers
Come first, you'll get your turn
But don't hold your breath.

Maybe little Joe will find a place at a good school
But the man says it's over subscribed
Folk from the private estate down the lane
He'll survive but won't thrive.

Gran needs an op to save her life
But it's been cancelled twice
and she's given up trying to see the GP
Husband or wife

Me? I want a better job, full time,
like in the olden days 
regular hours  pension
Holidays and such.
"Some hope" he says
"Yeah some fucking hope" I whisper to myself.