Alas! What hope remains? The Welfare State, <br />Wrought through the years of blood, sweat, toil and tears, <br />Of suffering and strife, to some appears <br />Refuted by f[r]ee enterprise whose weight <br />Leaves little budget elbow room. We wait. <br />Death bides its time an extra span. Each nears <br />The century where ‘threescore' once brought fears <br />Of death. Yet western world's extended date, <br />Or lease on life means at a triple rate <br />We claim or pay for benefits. Few cheers <br />In underemployment's rise. One hears <br />Demands for health-care, pensions, but, too late <br />Empty promises most hollow find, <br />too few for bluff fall, most fear future blind.<br /><br />Jonathan ROBIN<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-world-too-wide-for-his-shrunk-shank-after-shakespeare-jacques-seven-ages-of-man/
