The Big Question

My Job now is no more–
The boss has slam'd the door;
What shall I do?
Seems like my end is near,
My guts feel awful queer–
Where do we go from here?
–This is up to you.

No, I've not lost a leg,
–Why must I starve and beg?
What Shall I Do? Where can the answer lurk?
Why am I out of work, Gazing on all this murk?
This is up to you.

I can not stand alone, 
Masters have laid me prone;
What Shall I Do?
Why can't we hand in hand, 
Reclaim our right to stand,
Unhorse the sleek brigand? 
This is up to you.