So we have become categories -
Blocs of winners and losers -
Some cuddling empty glories
And others nursing their bruises.
And when we beg for compensation
It's just like a school examination,
But there are no sure texts to study -
Everything's moveable and muddy.
Meagre assistance comes with conditions -
Obligations, duties and prohibitions -
Sentencing the helpless to competitions,
Condemning the bereft to endless submissions.
For it is the bottom line that matters -
That sacred scorecard of narrow men
Whose humanity hangs in tatters -
Orwell's pigs have escaped another pen.