A Day at Work


When man is born he punches in.
He needs some training to begin.
His shaky work is slow to start,
Making sure he missed no parts.
His back grows tired;
His thoughts get lazy,
"How much did they say they'd pay me?"
He thinks about the time before,
But can't recall the hope he wore.
Still what he does recall is best.
He'd never quit for all the rest.
"It's best," he says and wipes his head.
His hands move quick;
His fast is stead.
With each new task he quickens pace.
He stacks his rules with care to place.
He keeps his eyes down, sings a tune.
He knows his work will finish soon,
And as he steps into the sun,
He smiles, his work. is
Done

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