Should A Poet Work?
I’m really in a rut and feeling blue
maybe I need a job just like you.
I’ll get up at 6, take a shower and eat
get ready for work, I’m already beat.
Hop in the car, hurry and wait
feel like a race horse dancing at the gate.
Finally get to work, arriving too late
my co-wokers stare, I think I’m bait.
Make it till 10, then take a little break
here comes the boss, can I stay a little late?
Of course I can, a smile on my face,
I know what to do, I know my place.
A typical day, a few bucks earned
I feel like butter that’s already churned.
Take home my check, the pittance that’s left
I feel like I’m robbed, surely it’s grand theft.
So maybe I’ll stay home and not feel so blue
I don’t want this story to ever come true.
Original Poetry by Patricia Walter 2000 ©