Times are hard.
Non-Working People take to the streets,
foul up traffic,
make a fuss,
litter,
piss on the sidewalks,
vandalize harmless walls.
They raise red banners, march arm in arm and shout until their voices are hoarse.
The economy shudders, and the investors flee.
Tired Working people try to go home,
stuck in traffic,
deafened by the noise,
sickened by the litter,
nauseated by the piss,
shake their heads at the walls ruined by spray paint.
The Working man raise their pens, their tools, their minds, blood seeping from their pores.
The Tax Man comes,
The Gas Man comes,
The Bill Man comes,
They take the Working man's blood stained money.
To feed the economy, they say
To make us prosper, they say
To usher a new world, they say
The Non-Working man sleeps, fucks and drinks.
Content to blame the ills of his life upon the world.
The Working man tries, ekeing out his existence on scraps from First World Countries.
They meet.
In a dimly lit street.
The Working man is tired, his once crisp shirt, crumpled and worn.
The Non-Working man shirtless, to show off his tatoos, smelling of cheap liquor and cigarettes.
The Non-Working man grins a stained-tooth grin, and takes out a knife
And takes out blood
And takes out hope
And takes out money
And takes out life
Non-Working People take to the streets,
foul up traffic,
make a fuss,
litter,
piss on the sidewalks,
vandalize harmless walls.
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3 comments:
Thank you for your honest perspective. Thanks for giving us a clear socio-cultural dimension of the Filipino community. I wonder what the unemployed individuals are thinking? Have they ever thought about their actions which affect the economy, government, and the society? Have Filipinos seen lobbying, vandalism, littering so much that it has become cultural, a part of being Filipino that could only be analyzed when one steps out of the self and critically analyze one's thoughts and actions
I'm glad you liked it.
I can't take the moral high ground and force people to believe that the non-working are unable and unwilling contribute positively to the country.
I've spoken to those who, despite their situation fight tooth and nail to better themselves. I admire them and extend my wholehearted support to them.
Then I see the image of the guy pissing on the EDSA shrine plaque, dancing in a drunken stupor, and I can't help but feel like he deserves to suffer the dead end life he leads.
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