The factory hums like a
well oiled machine except that
the machine is people and
the oil is their sweat and tears.

Money drives the machine to
produce but at what cost from
how many lives disrupted for
tomatoes and a little blood in cans? 

Look, there’s the little old lady
who watches the empty cans with
her little sad empty eyes pondering
where went her youth, love of life?

But life costs money honey and
you gots to pay everyone who
gives you anything ’cause nothing’s
free in this life of breathing air.

Never mind all that and hurry
get in line and show your badge
to the man with your money
already paid for in bits, pieces of you.