NaPoWriMo #22

I feel like this poem may be part one of a two-part poem.  We’ll see what comes.

Systemic Panic Attacks

Happiness is not important.
Get a job, any job
any job is better than none.
If it makes you sore,
if it makes you ache,
if it exhausts you
or makes your body think night is day,
we don’t care.

A job’s a job’s a job’s a
job
even if you cry yourself to sleep,
even if working three jobs leaves
hungry bellies at home.
How dare you try
to raise your kids?
Put them in school and care
and get a job.
We don’t care

if one life is all you get,
if you dreamt of being a botanist,
if you wanted a farm and five kids,
if you wanted to paint
and host lively dinner parties,
if you wanted to teach
the next world
with our support and small classes,
if you wanted to stretch yours arms and
breathe
this bright miracle of a world
and live.

Get
a
job.

© 2013 Robin A. Sams

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