A line Crossed

I drive my fingers to the bone,
I break my back for those I cherish,
I take comfort in the know, I am not alone,
Most of us work until we perish.
 
Monotonous on repeat for very little cash,
Some friends I have made softens the edges,
Very few in disagreement very rarely a clash,
We all have commitments, promise and pledges.
 
Though in all the time I have worked,
I have never ever judged someone,
For their colour or ethnic quirks,
I do not care where you have come from.  
 
When you rip apart the scars,
When you peel back the flesh,
You can see who we really are,
Were nothing but a mess, a mix of different cultures, where vultures lay in prey, I see demoralised values, miss use of language every day.  Were all the same, flesh, blood and bone, your racist ideas I cannot condone!