- Creative Writing -

Bread & Roses

Bread and Roses has long been the motto inscribed on radical working class banners, and has been the chorus of plenty of working class songs.

Warning- Language may not be suitable for picky stuck up types

Bread and Roses
Theres nah fucking roses long our street,
Just row on row o sandstone an concrete;
An folk as shuffle long like the un-dead,
As their dragooned off t earn their bread-
An precious little of that theyll see,
An all, left as like unhappy an ungry,
T shuffle ome an fall pon their backs
An not think bout their rumbling stomachs,
Nor of the beauty as theyve not that day seen-
Cepting as whats gin em on their TV screen.
For its not just fer food as they are poor,
Wanting as they do lifes rich colour,
The thirst t live an enjoy zard t parch;
An so fer Bread aand Roses this folkll march!
Crumb ere, petal there wont do!- if youll pardon-
So well ave the ole fucking bakery an garden.
Lets profess loud our simple strong demands,
Stood together our future in our hands-
Comrades giz solidarity in our strife
Comrades, giz Bread and Roses for our life.

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