Dedicated to my last job, for which I am very glad to be gone from.
I am so tired I want to quit
I think that I will throw a fit
I'll stomp my feet and swing my arms
Someone had better sound the alarm.
Some sleep would do a lot of good,
And I would do that if I could
But all I do is sit, sit, sit
I really must get out of this pit
What a fix I got myself in
When on this job I had to depend
To pay the rent and all that stuff
I'm gonna leave here in a huff
But first I'm gonna throw that fit
Then head home and by golly, get lit.
They use you up and then sweep you down to the end of the street. For most people the workaday world sucks. Your poetry reminds me of Shel Silverstein, but not for kids. M.True
I know the feeling. The first ten years were okay, but the last twenty got to be a new form of torture.
But it looks like you got a fix for your fix… You went home and got into literature like some authors have done, with little joy juice thrown in to make it more interesting. ;-)
Oh I know the fun of being in the wrong job. I'm still job hunting myself but I am much happier now :-) For me it was not the sitting; I was standing all the time. Good write.
chuckle
Never Stop writing!!
m
Regis
a fun write to read
peace be with you
William
But it looks like you got a fix for your fix… You went home and got into literature like some authors have done, with little joy juice thrown in to make it more interesting. ;-)
Ron
Still, I've never gone home to git lit! :) Well done, Lark.
Enjoying your book.
Well done!
JMD