Undercover Agent Poems | Examples

The Book of Job

You might have blisters on your hands from all your manual toil.
You may be climbing up a pole with an electrical coil.
Could be a produce vendor shucking husks from the cob.
It’s just a job.

You might have permanent employment, or only work from time to time.
You may have ring around the collar from industrial grime. 
Could be working in a hotel kitchen spearing kebabs. 
It’s just a job.

You might regard it a profession, a career, or a chore.
You may be forced to punch a time clock when you pass through the door.
Could be an undercover agent, or a thug with the mob.
It’s just a job

You might be laboring like Sisyphus for minimum wage.
You may possess a golden parachute for late middle age.
Could be widgeting the fittings on a thingamabob.
It’s just a job.

You might be entry level ready for the corporate sphere.
You may be hoping to retire in by the end of the year.
Could be cleaning up a crime scene where the vic was a slob.
It’s just a job

You might be licensed by the state to practice criminal law. 
You may be framing out a condo with a circular saw.
We all need to make a living, even trash-talking snobs.
It’s just a job.