Child Labor, a Poem

Child Labor 

I felt really bad 
For those kids on TV 
Who made a quarter 
A day assembling 
Happy Meal trinkets 
For fatass 
American kids 
Until I averaged 
Out all the money 
I’d made being 
A poet and it 
Was .001 cents 
An hour. 

Keep turning out 
Those Disney toys 
You lucky little 
Bastards.

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