Tough Jobs Leave To a Machine

Please, let me face the glasses:
I can clean all the classes;
Strong machines for spear grasses:
After tedious tasks rashes…

Yeah, grass takes one to nature
But nature-rich my stature;
Tough duties my health rupture:
No how, you’ll like the picture.

What you’d wanted me to pull
I couldn’t for their being full.
Though, I can on them now bend
They will, at last, breakdown lend.

Tough jobs leave to a machine
Or you’ll hurt your chin or shin
I know they don’t curse: machines,
As we watch them hands in Chins
Copyright © | Year Posted 2023

Poem

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