I work and work
Never scream that my back hurts
So I sit up and sell my soul
Wisphers over shadow
And wallets empty like ruthless lovers
Every product numbered like cattle
Every customer , statistics to be controlled someday
Every two weeks I get my prize
My hard work is appreciated to the lowest
Possible manner
With respect I accept
With anger I scream
By with gratitude I cry
I have.a job
No comments:
Post a Comment