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Its hardly a secret. I have done more for others Than has ever been done for me. While I volunteered to do your deeds, You sat back in wait, Offering shallow 'thank you's When I returned. A job well done, I guess. You complain about A harsh life, Filled with trouble, Filled with strife, While sitting still Fully tended by me. Never do you hear me Moan or whine. My poems have That light to shine. I need not say a word. My smiles are all fake, Caused by the trickery Of these miserable women. They give me momentary appreciation For a lifetime of service... But I am too loyal to ever say no.
0
Jan 10, 2011
Jan 10, 2011 at 12:50 PM UTC
I scratch your back, you scratch yours.
Its hardly a secret. I have done more for others Than has ever been done for me. While I volunteered to do your deeds, You sat back in wait, Offering shallow 'thank you's When I returned. A job well done, I guess. You complain about A harsh life, Filled with trouble, Filled with strife, While sitting still Fully tended by me. Never do you hear me Moan or whine. My poems have That light to shine. I need not say a word. My smiles are all fake, Caused by the trickery Of these miserable women. They give me momentary appreciation For a lifetime of service... But I am too loyal to ever say no.
Written by
American
Jan 10, 2011
Jan 10, 2011 at 12:50 PM UTC
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