A working poem
Apr. 26th, 2003 01:59 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ellenmillionWorking weekends isn't fair
I'm at work, but I don't care.
I cannot this weekend rue,
They feed me krab and milkshakes too
I draft and draft and draft and play
I cuss my job near every day
I want to art and draw and paint
But lack of paycheck makes me faint
At least they feed me and pay well
That compensates for daily hell
(And heaven knows in all this time
You'd think I'd make a better rhyme.)
I'm at work, but I don't care.
I cannot this weekend rue,
They feed me krab and milkshakes too
I draft and draft and draft and play
I cuss my job near every day
I want to art and draw and paint
But lack of paycheck makes me faint
At least they feed me and pay well
That compensates for daily hell
(And heaven knows in all this time
You'd think I'd make a better rhyme.)
