A peom from the sick.

Woe be to the poor.
Though all given to the privilaged.
For those with means
Are those allowed to dream

When states come calling
for where their policies are falling
Who do their surveys reach?

The renters, the poor, the homless?
Those who the state as failed?
No to the privilaged, the land owner, the home owner.
For they are the only views they cared.

To those affected the least.
To them the leaders reach.
To those affected most.
Left out to roast.

In cold places.
In extreme heat.
Worked to breaking.
Worked to dying.

When to strike or to eat.
There is no choice.
When to stand up or to die.
There is no try.

They won because those of means,
Strayed to far from the rest.
Because those with means 
Became to insulated from consequence.

This poem doesn't ryhm
This poem barely has time.
It is written by one 
Who needed to speak.