Angelica Tao Poet Free verse

Working

I could be an astronaut. 
Or a doctor. 
Or a box of strawberries at the store. 
Molding away. 

If there was such a thing as respect…
It would probably take a high paying job to earn it. 
It’s a little too “out there” for me. 
Hope, journeys, and respect. 

Hope, journeys, and maybe respect. 
If I were a carpenter. 
Or at least a carpenter’s apprentice.
I would never cry again. 

I could be very sad. 
Or extremely sad.
I didn’t finish school. 
But I’m too ordinary to be sad. 

I could be a box of strawberries. 
Molding and crying. 
Maybe I am. 
Even worse than that. 

I could be, I could be…
On a hopeful journey. 
To be respectable. 
If I had a name tag, everyone would know me. 

I had a job once. 
It was some regular type of job. 
They kicked me out two months ago. 
They didn’t throw me in the trash. 

I wish they threw me in the fly-infested trash can. 
But they just threw me…
Away.
And I still didn’t go back to school.

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