Del "Abe" Jones  
America's Poor Man's Poet

Del "Abe" Jones

Why is it, those with all the money
Are, in the front of the first line
With their hand out for a bailout
From us poor Folks, all the time?

Itís not just car makers and brokers
Most all big companies are the same
When things donít go how they want
Itís, We, the People, get the blame.

They fly all around in private jets
Stocked with fine wines and caviar
Ride limos to and from the airport
While we canít buy gas for our car.

Most of them pay little in taxes
Through, their loopholes and breaks
Paying less, the more they earn
While we canít make, what it takes.

They will send our jobs overseas
They donít want to pay the cost
To have it, ďMade in the USAĒ
Maybe, pride of that, forever lost.

They import goods with lead paint
And poisoned foods to make us sick
They donít care if some of us die
To get our money, (theyíre that slick).

They break our laws all the time
And donít fear, if they are caught
A slap on the wrist, rarely, ďtimeĒ
While, we can go to jail, for naught.

Millions are paid to so-called bosses
To bring any companyís, ruination
While stockholders, hire those CEOs
They want to blame it on the Nation.

With perks and golden parachutes
And bonuses, far beyond absurd
Defended by the dumbest reasons
That, anyone has ever heard.

We all really need a wake-up call
And all of us will pay the price
Maybe, for all the lessons learned
We wonít let this happen, twice.

Maybe we should, let them go bankrupt
And let the chips fall, where they may
With the hope, borne from those ashes
The common Folks, might have, their day.

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