I just joined this group, and have only begun to comb through the postings to see what this is about. Your poem caught my attention. Succinct and well done. The one line near the bottom might make better sense though if it were written;
I cannot imagine working in a factory and not wanting everything. It's the unfulfilled wanting that has one dying in a box. Besides, one would have to be a Budha to be able to endure such conditions without wanting.