People say it doesn’t exist. ’cause no one would like to admit. That there is a city underground. people who live everyday. Off the waste and decay. Off the discards of their fellow man. Here in subcity life is hard. We can’t receive any government relief. I’d like to please give mr president my honest regards. For disregarding me. They say there’s too much crime in these city streets. My sentiments exactly. Government and big business hold the purse strings. When I worked I worked in the factories. I’m at the mercy of the world. I guess I’m lucky to be alive. They say we’ve fallen through the cracks. They say the system works. But we won’t let it. Help. I guess they never stop to think. We might not just want handouts. But a way to make an honest living. Living this ain’t living. What did I do deserve this. Had my trust in god. Worked everyday of my life. Thought I had some guarantees. That’s what I thought. At least that’s what I thought. Last night I had another restless sleep. Wondering what tomorrow might bring. Last night I dreamed. A cold blue light was shining down on me. I screamed myself awake. Thought I must be dying. Thought I must be dying