When young you had a beauty

But you were born poor

So you will eat cheap food as

Your family can't afford any more.

 

You'll lose your teeth early,

Prematurely age,

Eek out an existence 

On a minimum age.

You’ll be old when you're young,

No matter how you try

Downtrodden and disregarded 

Until the day you die.

 

And generation come

And generations go

And the system exists

To maintain the status quo.

 

And the people in power 

Just won't care

Barely acknowledge

That you are there

Except for cannon fodder

In time of war

Or for cheap labour

And very little more.

 

They'll grow old gracefully

Have a fitter longer life

Thanks to good food and privilege

And less daily stress and strife.

 

And you'll be allowed 

To look on in awe

Eat the crumbs from their tables

And carry on as before.

They'll drink their Earl Grey

Little fingers cocked and curled

For God's in his heaven

And all's well with their world.

 

I should be angry but it’s

Head banging against a wall,

Screaming out loud about

The injustice of it all

For we cannon fodder 

Are taught so well

To be grateful for that 

We have in poverty’s hell.