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A Poem about the Unemployed.

Author:
the-forgotten-people

The Forgotten People.

No job, nowhere to live,
depend on people who give,
an industry of abuse has grown,
around the unemployment zone.

Hounded without a pause,
breached without a cause,
any excuse to make a buck,
the minister doesn't give a f#@k.

Paid an absolute pittance,
look for work without assistance,
Centrelink get paid for their sins,
evil wears many grins.

Government, a satanic institution,
driving youth into crime and prostitution,
Eve weeps for her children,
Centrelink makes a billion.

the-forgotten-people

About the Author

I was born in Melbourne Australia on March 4th, 1957. My mother worked in a pie van at Victoria market. My father drank. My brother, sister and I used to take time off school, go to the museum, botanical gardens or sneak into the zoo. When I was 9 we moved to a country town not far from the city. I enjoyed roaming around the paddocks. I didn't do well at school, my lack of concentration made studying difficult, I dropped out to pursue a career in retail. I managed an aquarium successfully. In 1985 I was diagnosed with schizophrenia, later with paranoid schizophrenia, with this came heavy cannabis use. I was in and out of hospitals for a long time. New medications have made me stable, I haven't been hospitalized since 2000. Psychosis radicalized my thinking, I realized I could make something out of the darkness. That was the beginning of my paranormal journey.

© 2018 JAMES