Article: 738 of alt.amateur-comp
From: ag173@yfn.ysu.edu (Jay Hauben)
Subject: Poem: The Wage Slave



                The Wage Slave
 
          It matters not your color,
          Your cult or craft or creed,
          If you're a wage-hour worker
          You're still a slave indeed.
 
          The ruling class is master
          And dollars are the chains
          By which they keep you bonded
          For purely personal gains.
 
          Two things are ever sacred,
          Their bank and ballot box
          And woe! the humble worker
          That tampers with their locks.
 
          They let you cast your ballot
          But keep the right of score
          And watch you make the money
          While they attend the store.
 
          This class is not your savior,
          In fact they'll never be --
          They'll always be your burden
          As long as you're not free.
 
                             by Floyd Hoke-Miller
 
(Taken from A Laborer Looks At Life Then and Now, Poems from the 
Shop Floor, Flint, 1984)