
Jobless Masses
You, the jobless masses are the scum of the earth
The disease of life
The losers that roam the streets in perpetual hopelessness
Depressive, downtrodden, delusional, destitute
Why not kill yourselves?
Life would be so much easier
No more hanging out at the local Tim Hortons
Staring into the oblivion of your stale coffee
No more asking for change on the frigid streets, bumming a cigarette
No more harassing the good, hardworking people of society
No more taking advantage of those who deserved to get where they are
No more Airbnb-ing the local library
If only street cleaners could brush you up off the sides of the streets
along with all the other discarded trash
If only you were jailed or shot
for being a bane on the rest of us
Stop bothering us!
Leave us alone!
Go get a job!
Go shave that disgusting beard!
Go take a shower!
Go write a resume!
Just leave me the fuck alone!
You’re the acne on a flawless face
The scar on a perfect body
The blemish on pristine skin
The callouses on soft hands
The dirt under our fingernails
The open sore on an infected wound
The herpes, syphilis and gonorrhea of the city
The waste running through the sewers
These thoughts enter my mind vicariously
As I look at the busy masses walking by
And I wonder
When will someone notice?
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