Thousands of free stories. Support your favorites when you're ready.
Showing stories tagged with #working-class Clear filter
#augustwriteaday #nightdwellers Green unpleasant septic isle Let your people down in style The pain that unemployment brings Heartache waiting in the wings Empty buildings never used Privilege has...
When you awake. You let out a big sigh. Here are some reasons. I'll tell you why. The postman he brings. Nothing but bills. Some over a grand. They give you the chills. Water bills rising.
The dull hum of hot fryers, The smell of fat and starch in the air. The heat in the room rising. No one bothered enough to care. Then five'o'clock hits...
I have ends that never meet as I crawl along the breadline Your smug demeanour shines as you enforce another pay freeze Peter gets robbed and Paul gets paid as I rein in the purse strings You have...
Standing in line another factory day. Watching the clock for a pittance of pay. Four years of study for a second class degree. Is this my career, is this the best I can be.
Peg is the name of the lady that washes my clothes at the laundromat . Her hard bleached hands match her wind blasted face charred by broken veins and too much frowning.
Keeping a smile on your face Through the pain of the doubt Living with the debt Priorities set Working for food on the plate, Going without so the family eats Fighting off regret.
I am the supermarket car washer in the winter The leaf raker in the autumn The lemonade stand on a hot summers day The lawn mower as the spring life comes out to play I am a result of no...
Too many Vodkas the night before, Wake up in another bed feeling like a whore. Make up smudged around your eyes, Your smile tells a thousand lies. You feel like your in a hamster wheel.
#100days Heaven where the angels dwell I believe in it, but not in hell. Unless it's this world we're living in Controlled by greed and lust and sin.
He spends his whole day. Out in the rain. He's such a good chap. He isn't a pain. Looking after his crops. His animals to. Without this great man. There's nothing for you. He's dirty, he smells.
I wrote this as I am pissed off being a middle aged man out of work. Those of you old enough might remember the tag line from the epic series Boys From The Blackstuff. Gizza job. Gizza job.
Beasley Street Far from crazy pavements - The taste of silver spoons A clinical arrangement On a dirty afternoon Where the fecal germs of Mr Freud Are rendered obsolete The legal term is null and...
I try to live each day In a happy good way Working for poor pay So my boss can play The rich man just laughs When a poor man asks How long can it last The system of the class.
For the lowest of the low. Each day is tough going. Working your finger to the bone. Never ever slowing. Minimum wage. With bills to pay. Not only that but. A baby on the way.
You might have a car You might have a flat A big bling necklace but you look like a twat I don't owe nothing I live with mum and dad But I've got something That you've never had I can't afford a...
Let me tell you a story of a place I know well, It's drab and it's filthy and hotter than hell, The paintwork is peeling, the decor is grim, Clientele unfeeling and impossibly dim.
IF I HURT YA WHEN I HIT YA, IT WAS AN ACCIDENT. SOMETIMES I DON’T KNOW MY OWN STRENGTH. IT AINT THAT BIG OF A BRUISE, AND I DON’T THINK IT’LL SCAR. SO, DON’T GO MAKING EXCUSES, ‘CAUSE I AIN’T.
Life's so hard. Life's so tough. Life treats you. So god damn rough. You try your best. Just to survive. Work all day. To keep you alive. Moneys tight. And bills to pay. You try so hard.
I say goodbye to the family and start another day of factory rules and factory tools and fools in factory grey.
While they're making billions to share amongst their selves, Us working class are grafting hard like santas little elves. Off to work and home again, this is how we live.
I wakes up in the mornin', An' curse that bloody clock, The kids was up an hour ago, And runnin' fair amok, I gots two hours to sort 'em out, An' pack 'em off to school, Then off to work I 'as to...
Payday's here, Thank God. The tax man will take most though, Bloody sod. Living on beans for the last 7 days, Starting to think that crime might pay.
Every single Saturday. I buy a lottery ticket. To ease my cash calamity. So I can tell 'em where to stick it. Every single Saturday. I'm convinced I'm gonna win. But they've drawn the fourth ball out.