Ode To The Employer Poem by James Lewis

You get me up each morning in addition to the Lord, I'm grateful that I have you but it's time to even score,

without you I'd be sleeping down on someone's hardwood floor, but f* you, I refuse to take your BS anymore.

I give you 40 hours ev'ry week I'm so OG, I sometimes give you more by labor laws I'm so OT,

morose'fully I hopefully envision an escape, you pay me yes but even still it's like I'm being raped.

You vaseline me savagely then say it's for my good, then penetrate me rough with ev'ry inch of thy own wood,

I can't take any time off cause it has to be acrued, which leaves me hanging open feeling used and plus I'm screwed,

If God forbid that something happens with the kids at home, it's you Mr. Employer that makes workers grab the chrome,

and spazz out in the office puttin lead in others' heads, instead of work for you they feel they're better being dead.

I won't take those extremes but still I know just how they feel, instead of keep it real you'd rather give your workers dill,

like pickle nothin trickles down the bottom rung to those, who prostitute themselves for you we're like your workplace hose.

Morale is at an all time low cause folks are just fed up, if you'd just treat us right we'd happ'lly work with our heads up

inside the clouds for miles and miles but that won't happen can't you see, I need you but I f*ing hate you, signed an employee.