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Poem: We are your living wage workers.

The below poem is written by  Ryan Taaffe-Fowle, a  2020 Young Norfolk Laureate, commissioned for Living Wage Week by the National Centre for Writing. 

 

We are your living wage workers

Also known as your worked to the bone factory faeces.

Surely you remember us blokes who pack your boxes of card onto pallets worth more each, than we earn in a week.

 

You might know us as the late-night warehouse walkers,

or the supermarket shelf stackers

working 9 till 9 just to feed our daughters

we are struggling.

 

Hand me down clothes and food bank withdrawals

The living wage means we can cover our bills, this evening.

 

Surely you remember our mothers,

who woke before the sun to pack our lunches

then go work so hard that they lose their hair

and don’t get paid the very bare

minimum.

 

Hand me down clothes and food bank withdrawals

The living wage means we can cover our bills, this evening.

 

You can download and read the poem here. 

13th November 2020, 09:00
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