**** out of luck,

chasing a few lousy bucks,

working the same Summertime grind,

making just enough to purchase some rinds.


Whatever used to be my will,

has been replaced by countless bills,

watching pocket change for which I sweat,

feed into that fucking bottomless debt.


Knights were always rewarded for their toil,

with boundless treasures and spoils,

while once again I’ve been trapped,

because my weekly wage has been capped.


Just another familiar kick to the groin,

to keep me sprinting after a few scant coins,

putting up with endless abuse and harm,

when the taxman has me by the arm.


How I wish I could flee before I rust,

yet here I remain, bound and trussed,

standing amid angry shouts and whirring blades,

hoping this month I’ll be paid.