I wrote this poem as I was thinking about socioeconomic inequality.

Doesn’t Matter

It’s heave, it’s throw,
My life it doesn’t matter.
It’s lift, it’s pull,
Can’t climb the rich man’s ladder.
 
I see the guys in snappy suits,
Gents sittin’ in the shade,
While I swelter in the gutter,
Cleanin’ the mess they made.

It’s tug, it’s tow,
My life it doesn’t matter.
It’s grind, it’s roll,
Can’t get to what I’m after.

I’d like a fancy mansion,
At the end of money street,
But how can I get more schooling,
When I work three shifts all week?

It’s sweep, it’s hoe,
My kids’ lives, they don’t matter.
It’s dig, it’s sow,
Nothing makes me sadder.
 
My girl went to a grocery store,
And she came home in despair,
‘cause the kid behind her shouted,
She has cooties in her hair!
 
It’s scrub, it’s sew,
My kids’ lives, they don’t matter.
It’s wash, it’s stow,
The babies’ clothes are tattered.
 
I want to teach my children
The manners of the well-to-do,
But we can’t go where the rich go,
Without fancy clothes or shoes.
 
It’s trick, it’s duel,
Our lives, they don’t matter.
It’s taunt, it’s fool,
Can’t join the rich man’s banter.
 
We don’t have their fancy words,
No one listens to what we say,
And how can we smell like flowers,
Workin’ in the ovens for pay?
 
It’s lie, it’s cajole,
Our lives, they don’t matter.
It’s arrest, it’s parole,
Our hopes have all been shattered.
 
Rich folks live in luxury
After drinking too much wine,
But the drunkard in the alley
Goes to prison to serve time.
 
It’s heave, it’s throw,
Our lives, they don’t matter.
It’s lift, it’s pull,
Can’t climb the rich man’s ladder.

– C. N. Sky