This morning I’m a conscientious
Forty year employee.
At midnight I become a deadbeat-
Jobless with no prospects.
Used up like a paper towel
And tossed into the garbage,
Even though my weave is good
And I could soak up more
Of all the disrespect and slander
They mopped up with me daily
As I tried to be the very best
At what they cannot understand.
They will see their error soon
As puddles begin forming.
They will find their feet are wet
And all their clay is melting.
ljm
I wrote this on New Year's Eve as my last day of employment was ending.
Now, 3 weeks later they are starting to realize how much I knew and did, and how much they need the things I knew and did. How long before they realize they need to hire another me and there isn't one to be found.
Why isn't there more joy in this?