Poems

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April 26, 2005

Reforger State of Mind

I rise with the sun, yes, that same sun
The one that mocks me through my first job
The one I never see on my second
Yes, the sun that shines, but never smiles.
And I go to work, yes, that's what I do
I take deep pride in my profession
So much pride that I can't tell you what I do
(You wouldn't understand the depth of it
So I'll send you a snapshot)
And that uniform that fits so well that I take pains
So it will look PERFECT -- not a button undone
As I get mud, blood, sweat, and tears on it
Still looking clean -- until someone spits on it/at me.
I've been accused of courage and that scares me to death
Yes, there's that word again, staring me in the face
Becoming a part of my face -
Don't say that word and it won't happen
Yet, amid the silence he daily reaps
And I clean up after the party.
The fear I won't acknowledge makes me want to vomit
But I don't because I'd have to clean that up too.
So I reach out and grab someone and love them hard
With all my might, really fast, before it's too late
But I don't get too close so I won't hurt them -
No one wants that as a permanent position
So I deal with a lot of part-time, temporary help.
Soon it gets to be just like another job - increases the burden
And I wonder why I work so hard, but I can't stop.
But once in a very long while I meet someone who knows
Who is trudging up that same steep hill
(You can tell by their eyes when they vacantly stare)
Just a short conversation with one who shares the common bond
Is payment received for overtime
And those of us who are us . . . feel overpaid.

Posted by BlueWolf on April 26, 2005 09:23 PM