Saturday, January 14, 2006

Keep Out The Scabs, a poem

Look around and see the scabs do what you used to do;
and then count up the number who've been taken off your crew.
Do you see what they've been doin? Don't think it's just a fluke!
They're gettin rid of all of us, it makes me want to puke.
You'd think after so many years of loyalty and devotion,
They'd try to operate the place without stirring up emotions.
Cutting costs can come about, no need to double-cross us.
Just start eliminating all those clipboard totin excess bosses.

For every three who labor in the dust and dirt and grime;
there's one just doin nothin more than takin care of time.
Securing one another's job makes sense to you and me,
but keepin all those bosses will result, I guarantee;
that down the road our company will all be up for grabs,
and all because instead of us they thought they'd have the scabs
do all the work we used to do when management was fair,
and strove to keep the workers from wanting work elsewhere.

When will they realize that they can't pay us to be loyal,
and more than money is required to prompt us all to toil.
It don't make sense to think the answers payin half the price,
when gettin the job done means that you'll have to do it twice.
We don't expect Utopia, but for all that we have given,
you'd think that we could count on makin just a decent livin.
We don't expect the company to be our benefactor,
just reduce the blatant use of those damn outside contractors.
© 1993 Charlie Averill

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