Ballad of the Working Class

I started life
In sweet bliss
Free from strife
Nothing amiss

Then I looked around
Saw Father
Working the ground
With fervor

I saw Mother
Toil her day
Over the children
Of another

Then I searched over
For evidence
Of this their labor
Or existence

I found nothing
Not a dime
To show something
For their time

Means of production
Perhaps Marx knew
Effects of reduction
Working class do