NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR:
This is the 6th poem in this series and I appreciate everyone who takes the time to read through this.
THE INSPIRATIONAL VOICE:
Many in Connecticut and I'm sure well beyond, work multiple jobs to make ends meet, some up to 4 jobs, yet they need help. So many working feel, work no longer works in this economy, work no longer pays the bills and this has fallen upon the shoulders of many, and has taken a seat in the homes of many.
Many workers feel trapped in a cycle and few have the answers. This story is about a neighborhood in a neighboring town, and the homes that gone up for sale. Many feel, it is not just the homes that have gone up for sale but the American worker also. To those trying to work and live in Connecticut, I know you are overwhelmed and overburdened, this is for you.. a voice on your behalf, not just for Connecticut but for anyone who can relate.
Thank you for reading this piece...
written by: Beth Tremaglio
Rain beats on a worn roof,
a single drop,
drips from a crack,
presses upon a workers skin,
and thus becoming a hundred storms.
Storms, for years brewing,
beneath a shroud of political propaganda,
that have done nothing more than veil pained truths,
of those in the middle,
in silences deafening rod,
they say to us, "all is well and growing!"
But for who!?
They don't live on our streets,
eat from our shelves,
live under their own polices,
nor work within the corporate structures that bow
to cheap labor.
Wages dry, know longer able to bear up under
the weight of brick walls.
Multiple jobs cannot stop the for sale signs
fixed in dirt.
Longer hours cannot stop the for sale signs,
upon the necks of the working poor,
living in homes yet homeless.
Misplaced by the ones elected,
the working poor have been sold.
Sold by self-proclaimed political gods, thriving off those they have vowed to help.
Sold by corporate America, employers thriving off the backs of the employee,
their voices continue to echo within silences deafening rod,
"when working no longer works, then what?"
All that is heard?
political and corporate noise....
Randomness of thoughts
Writing words, letting them live through me