Ice nor early morning wind deters
The smile and wave
Unreturned
But
Nonetheless done everyday
Standing for hours
Selling his
Light
The rich men see
Only
A poorer
being
From their buildings
High above
From their cars
Airconditioned
From their seats
All leather
They tell themselves the poor work
Poorly
(He laughs and chats
This “newspaper guy”
No shelter or seat to rest his tired feet)
The rich work hard
“We do” they say
“I’m sure”
The poor have only themselves to
Blame
(He is there before the birds no matter the Taxi Fare
This “newspaper man”)
But (now shifting in unease) in his car
The businessman knows his lie
And that
The Newspaper man
Works harder then him
