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The Cubicle

By Elton Camp

I get tired of hearing from whinny folk
Who think their job will them choke
“It’s not the type of work I hoped to do.
It’s unworthy for me to put my time into.”

Every employment has its up and down
There’s no perfect position to be found
Some view their work as a prison cell
Where they must endure a living hell

I worked for years and could feel that way
But with my job I always managed to stay
There’s none else who support will be giving
As if the world somehow owed me a living

The economy staying so terribly unsound
There are few decent jobs that can be found
So those who have benefits plus good pay
Should be very thankful that it is that way

If your job you should decide to leave
It’s probable that you will come to grieve
The initial surge of freedom you’d feel
Will vanish when the results become real

When for food stamps you have to apply
And the provision of Medicaid you try
Luxuries you will never enjoy anymore
And you’ll very soon wish it was as before

But someone else your good job did fill
And you will ever so surely go downhill
Stocking shelves or cleaning off a table
To find only such jobs will you be able

Your situation will prove to be much worse
And your folly, far too late, you will curse
So get wise and don’t make such a mistake
Bring on yourself much needless heartache

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