They are rabid
To cut benefits
To make up
Their own shortfall
Yet the biggest claimants
The royal family
See a rise
Not a fall.
They pay no bedroom tax
Spare rooms too many to count
Allowed to be ill
While poverty it shouts
Everyones a shirker
No illness allowed
Unless your rich or royal
Compassion it clouds.
Prime minister
And all mps
Yearly rise
Expense account
No fall in income
No worries
Or food banks
The down trodden shout.
-
Author:
nephilim56 ( Norman Dickson) (
Offline) - Published: November 23rd, 2025 04:21
- Comment from author about the poem: Hello austerity Our old friend More graves to dig As benefits end.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 23

Offline)
Comments3
A poetic complaint made in this poem of injustice. But then this type of injustice goes way back before any can remember reinforcing that old cliche Might makes right. The rich will always be rich and the poor poor. As another man once said "For the poor always ye have with you"
thanks for reading, much appreciated, and comments are so true
Sadly, not a lot changes in the poverty world.
The rich hoard their money, the poor survive on it.
Britain is the 7th richest country in the world, you wouldn't think it would you.
the class system prevails sadly, thanks for comments much appreciated
Great title and general tenor. Your pin says it loud and clear. The only element which gave me pause for thought was was the tail of your comment: 'benefits end'. Rabbit hole time, and when I emerged I was probably none the wiser beyond the feeling that Britain isn't what it was in the '60's and '70's when I lived there, but more currently there appears to have been a revolt by some Labor MPs which may have softened the reforms...........but by how much?
Benefits end refers to the disabled and ill forced to work and dying, over 330,000 premature deaths due to the last austerity measures in 2010. Thanks for reading its much appreciated
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.