It Was A Bad Nightmare For Me. - Poem by MOHAMMAD SKATI

He calls himself Boiled Milk, I worked for him for a week, I never hate people, but I don't like him, Mr Boiled Milk, As he likes to call himself, Is not a pretty man, He is wierd to some extent, He never treats his employees nicely Because he was not raised well, He has a bad friend Whose job is to stir him, Both are corrupt because They do bad things in life, I never appreciate working For mean people because I am so sensitive towards things, I am a hard worker and I can work For twenty-four hours, but I can not keep silent towards a bad word Comes from Mr Boiled Milk or his nasty friend, This Mr Boiled Milk suddenly explodes Into a monster titling nonsense, No one likes to be hired by him, but The urgent need makes someone accepting the worst, A miser, a corrupt, an evil man, and all These nasty words that suit him, Mr Boiled Milk is never lovely even The closest to him anytime, so That week I worked for him Was a real nightmare for me, I quit working for him, He phoned me, but I answered not him.

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Poem Submitted: Saturday, February 15, 2014

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