Poetry & Art

the blood on their hands

i am not grateful
for a company
who uses their “essential employees”
as sacrificial lambs
because that’s what we really are to them,
as if low-wage workers
somehow aren’t human;
like we don’t have lives,
families, and friends
outside of work—
they don’t care about us like they claim,
after all our complaints
they only raised our pay by a measly dollar;
and they gave us plexiglass dividers that don’t even
cover or protect us in any way
because of the gaps
any customer could easily sneeze or cough on us—
they’re just there for the appearance they
care about us or our customers
they care about neither,
just cannot let go of that pandemic money;
let the blood on their hands
drive them to madness.

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