Poem: Life After the Congressional Budget Cuts


Poem: Life After the Congressional Budget Cuts

A little old lady,
Sits in the corner remembering,
A home, was very nice
A place to sleep, was very nice
But the biggest heartbreak of all
Was the loss of her only picture
Of her dead husband, Henry
He hated having his picture taken
So the only one that was left
Was the picture from their wedding day
He’d been killed in the Korean War, dead for years
But his picture sat in a corner,
On top of his carefully folded military uniform
And every morning Esther would greet him
“Good morning love”
And he would smile
And his smile would say, “Good morning Esther”
But his picture was crumpled and thrown out
When the Sheriff came to toss her out
Out of her house, her home
For her home was an “entitlement program”
A program giving the elderly a place to live
Now she sits, tucked in the corner
Of a library? No its shut down
In a senior center? No its shut down
Of an old people’s home? No its shut down
A public bathroom? No a public bathroom is a socialist idea, so its shutdown
But an outside corner of a building soon to be demolished
Because it was an affordable housing complex
A few moms sit beside her, with their crying children in their arms
Soon they will not even be able to sit there
The building will be demolished to make way for condos
Privatization of the land that was bought by the federal government for the poor
“Entitlement programs” helping those in need,
The poor
The elderly
The sick
All programs smashed
And the richest of the rich getting richer
While the poorest of the poor
If they are lucky, live in rat infested workhouses
“But the masses are starving,
They cannot afford to eat.”
To this the Republicans and Blue Dog Democrats reply,
“Well then, let the eat cake!”

This poem was inspired by the congressional budget as what I can easily see happening if this budget passes.

About Amy Marschak

I have been writing since I was little and found myself bored but yet still trapped in a classroom. So instead of staring out the windows at school, I would write poetry in the margins of all of my school notes. And in this way I could pass the time without having to listen to the teacher when they were being boring or depressing. A few of these poems are in my first book “Poetry for All Those Breathing” which is now in its Seventh Printing. Poetry has always been a way for me to be heard by my family. If I would simply state how I felt, I would frequently be ignored but if I wrote it as a poem, what I had to say would be listened to. Sometimes my parents would even cry when they heard my poetry.