Dressed Up Poem by Kate More

We're all animals dressed for the carnival
At the end of the day we return to our stalls.
Our trainer lives in the decorated trailer.
When you disobey he makes you feel like a failure.

We're instruments all polished for the ball.
At the end of the evening we return to our box.
The conductor leads with a golden baton.
We're always out of time, he makes us play so long.

We're all cars driving people around.
Driver gets the tips; we get the garage.
Occasionally-a sip of gas
before we sit all night thinking we don't want to go back.