The Cost of Unemployment (Poem)
September 6th, 2011Note: I haven’t participated in the DVERSEPOETS.com prompts in a few weeks due to being busy and forgetting by the end of the day. So, here’s a poem to make my kind of come back. I hope. Before even reading this week’s free write entry, I thought the most appropriate subject to write about is something historically knifing our backs right now….
The Cost of Unemployment by Karen Maeby Bates
Yesterday, Labor Day.
We celebrated by hanging out near the unemployment office
drinking free coffee and eating free donuts.
Otherwise, we would have starved.
A few months ago, I had a job
and I could afford to support my means of living.
Now I’m just a worthless bum waddling the streets
with a bucket asking for money because I’m too lazy to find a job.
That’s what he thinks anyway.
I have a degree and lots of skills
but that doesn’t matter because
I’m not allowed to apply for a job because my job status is: unemployed.
Those companies think I’m skill-less
because I was laid off for no fault of my own.
I get stared at. I get looked down upon.
I’m a terrible person and I feel like a loser.
Being unemployed really gets to a person sometimes.
Where’s the light at the end of the tunnel?
Will it ever get better?
What are we, the poor, supposed to do when it gets this bad?
One million resumes gone out to equal amount of companies.
Application after application,
day after day after day. Sun up and sun down.
No phone calls, no leads, nothing even remotely close.
I’m running out of money -
Can’t pay my bills, my support system is almost gone.
I have no savings. I have no stocks. I have no back up money.
My pockets are empty, even empty of change.
What am I to do?
When are things going to be fixed?
This is depressing. I’m depressed. The majority of Americans are in a depression.
I feel like I’m covered by a cloud
and it’s never going to go away, it will only rain even harder.
Then, I’ll be digging my own grave and then
I won’t have to worry about what happens tomorrow
because I will already be gone — and taken care of.
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