Jobless Masses You, the jobless masses are the scum of the earth The disease of life The losers that roam the streets in perpetual hopelessness Depressive, downtrodden, delusional, destitute Why not kill yourselves? Life would be so much easier No more hanging out at the local Tim Hortons Staring into the oblivion of your stale coffee No more asking for change on the frigid streets, bumming a cigarette No more harassing the good, hardworking people of society No more taking advantage of those who deserved to get where they are No more Airbnb-ing the local library If only street cleaners could brush you up off the sides of the streets along with all the other discarded trash If only you were jailed or shot for being a bane on the rest of us Stop bothering us! Leave us alone! Go get a job! Go shave that disgusting beard! Go take a shower! Go write a resume! Just leave me the fuck alone! You’re the acne on a flawless face The scar on a perfect body The blemish on pristine skin The callouses on soft hands The dirt under our fingernails The open sore on an infected wound The herpes, syphilis and gonorrhea of the city The waste running through the sewers These thoughts enter my mind vicariously As I look at the busy masses walking by And I wonder When will someone notice?