Forty Six Years of Work

Lots of praise, but little respect, So many days, what do they expect? My job is a maze, to serve and protect. It hardly pays, last time I checked. Into past I gaze, hardly time to reflect. Could have gone many ways, why select, My choice displays, too late to defect. Myself I amaze, or does it infect. Setting soul ablaze, leaving it unchecked. Was it just a phase, or did I overprotect. I now have malaise, in complete misdirect. Retirement delays, takes the toll to intersect. I gained a little praise, without any respect. written for Put Your Best Rhyme Forward!!!!! Free Poetry Contest written by Cecil Hickman date written 12-07-13