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
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