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Poetry by Alastair McIntyre
Unemployed


I walk along a city street
Looking for a place to eat
Walking round and round and round
Trying to get off this merry-go-round.

When your unemployed and in digs
Your chucked out at half past six
Your not allowed back in again
Until the clock strikes six again.

I walk along many a street
Looking for a place to eat
So expensive is the city meal
I'll soon be down to my last meal.

A place to lie low for a time
So I can avoid paying a fine
A fine for loitering or obstruction
Of all those people with a destination.

Each time I find a place to lie low
I'm moved on again with a blow
I'm always unwanted where I go
And am always treated like a foe.

Perhaps people are afraid of me
I wonder what it is they see
Perhaps it is themselves they see
And are afraid of being like me.

I'm trying hard to get a job
But there really is quite a mob
Trying to get every last job
And so I always fail to get the job.

My trouble is very plain to see
I'm cold and hungry don't you see
From trying to find a place to eat
And tramping around city streets.

In this condition it is no wonder
That prospective employers start to ponder
Over whether I might not be better
To start writing a suicide letter.

It's back to walking along the city streets
Looking for places in which to eat
Walking round and round and round
Trying to get off the merry-go-round.


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