My Inner Schizophrenic - Poems for the Working Man

The Street Corner He sat on the street corner with cup outstretched as people passed him by and he wondered to himself about his situation of the how and of the why There was a time in his life when he too had a family to boot and the days are long past where he once wore a tie and a nice blue suit The economy tanked and he lost his middle-class job and his middle-class wife decided to leave him for his best friend Bob Without any spare money in the bank and an exhorbitant mortgage to pay he slipped into arrears and had nowhere else to stay It could very well happen to anyone in this day and age as we have all felt like rats at one time in a big fat, round cage So now he hawks for spare change to subsidize his shelter and curses the highly-paid executives who helped the economy to falter Celtic Woman I am the epitome of a Celtic woman my willful nature takes hold this is due in part to my ancestors from Ireland the hard times they did forever enfold I am the epitome of a Celtic woman my Scottish ancestors they did value thrift they stuck to a very good and tight budget in case one day their fortunes would shift I am the epitome of a Celtic woman the coalminers of Wales hear me out with black gold they knew they would die very early from black lung and they knew they would not be very old I am the epitome of a Celtic woman the English have their fine tea my ancestors from down there in Cornwall would forever sip it out by the sea I am the epitome of a Celtic nation by birthright my ancestors have shown how we can all get along together and finally call America home