The Job

I’m near my end, I feel it close My patience does wear thin Some pills! Some pills! I need a dose “fore they see my evil twin This job! This job! It makes me ill! Their snot and germs spread so fast I come to school with much good will Quickly spoiled with the first blast Of glares and cursing galore They look so sweet, but are so rude I want to run out the door My wish to help dashed to the rocks By those kids who think they know More than the most cunning smart fox They don’t need me so I’ll go