No roof over his head
no regular bed,
roughed it so long
he's lost his looks,
doesn't care anymore
about who is or isn't on TV.
She used to dance,
a disco queen
dressed to the nines,
now the clothes she wears
barely hang on
and she's no-one left
to telephone.
They're running out of time,
may even have lost
their taste for fine wines
but would still love a treat,
a square meal or two
but more than that
a square deal will do -
they're willing and able
they just need to be allowed
to climb back on board.
Geoffrey Winch
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/job-seekers-allowance/
