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The Great Unwashed

Supply the demand

By Alexandra SheaderPublished 3 years ago 1 min read
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Disease breeds

In the Great Unwashed.

The common as muck,

They’re raising the cost.

The suits and ties

Cram the commuter trains.

Where deep pockets

And bloated bellies

Stand in place of brains.

Your rules of course,

Cannot apply to me.

But look at that foreigner.

He brought the disease.

So I’ll keep hoarding

And glutting and flouting the law.

I’ll inflate my prices

And make them pay more.

Disease feeds

On the Great Unwashed.

In suits and ties, it breeds and waits.

‘Til the chance comes to infiltrate

The common masses.

You and I.

They can’t be touched

And they won’t die.

So they’ll make their deals

And supply the demand.

Yet the Great Unwashed

Can’t clean their hands.

They’re getting desperate

At the end of a rope.

They cry for relief

With little hope.

But the suits and ties

Keep spreading disease

And there are just

Too many mouths to feed.

Our enemy is invisible.

Our enemy is greed

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About the Creator

Alexandra Sheader

I like to root for the underdog, find the beauty in the weird. Introvert, observer, people watcher, thinker and all round quiet person. But I still have a voice and a unique point of view. Life experience has given me the toughest armour.

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