The Cubicle

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