For the Other Working Class Kids Out There
Invisible Labour
They wouldn't survive the factory floor
writing poems on napkins.
But we did both.
We built the thing
they'll put someone else's name on.
We proved it again.
We proved it again.
We proved it again.
We didn't start behind.
We started without the map
they were handed at birth
and found our own way anyway
which they will call luck
which they will call potential
which they will call
she could have done it better.
Patience is not a virtue
when the system runs on your waiting.
When your stillness is someone else's floor.
When your invisible labour
holds up a ceiling
you're not allowed through.
We are not behind.
We are carrying more
and they keep mistaking the weight
for slowness.
The world will catch up.
It always does.
We’re just not going to wait for it.