Bedroom Tax

A small sentiment on the newly introduced Bedroom Tax that is taking the UK by storm!

Well done. You now own

some bricks

with a little roof

on top.

 

And a little fence

that goes

all the way around

some grass.

 

You worked really hard

for years

to get this house and

small yard.

 

And when you are dead

it goes

to your own children

to sell.

 

You're the lucky one.

Some folk

pay a Bedroom Tax;

Council.

 

They didn't work hard

like you.

They queued for free cash;

Dole cheque.

 

Time for them to move,

enough

of an easy ride,

enough.

 

But you grew up there,

you did.

Don't forget your roots;

Mum's house.

 

Your belly was full,

clean sheet's

when you went to bed

each night.

 

Now she has to leave

the house,

that you grew up in.

That's bad.

 

Memories stolen

from her

by the Men in Charge.

New rules.

 

Brick the windows up

like in

the Sixteen-hundreds:

"Light Tax".

 

"Daylight Robbery",

they said.

The rich got more rich.

Shut sash.

 

Trust your Government,

they know

best for everyone.

Bedroom's

 

will be bricked up for

no-one

to use anymore.

Sleep Tax.

 

 

 

Author's Note

All reviews welcome.

Reviews

[Graveyardfuck]

I like this write. The stanzas emphasise the meaning. The government sounds like a joke, in a way.
It's actually quite silly to think that you'd be taxed on that, but with the things we get taxed on these days, it doesn't seem impossible.
I'm just hoping this isn't to become of our future.
Great piece, though. :) ~Brooke

[Joby Bottoms]

Thanks for your review and for picking up on the structure of the stanzas, which was my intention :-)

[Tricia O'Brien]

I genuinely enjoyed this piece. Soft yet a rough overview I felt.
I dig it, thanks for sharing :)