Community service.

Community service.

A Poem by drave

The guy that supervises some of the community service stuff I'm doing

He says "They created this job just for me."
He says "They don't pay me enough for this job."
He says "I live at my parents house so I don't really have any bills."
He says "How old are you?..Awww you're still young.I'm 53"
He says "I'm buying another gun tomorrow..I collect them you know"
He says "I don't get to shoot too much lately though..Just the tree in my back yard sometimes when I'm drunk and it starts to talk crazy to me."

In the back of my mind I hear him saying
"One of these days I'll make them all wish they had been nicer to me."

I smile and nod back,
Doing my best to exude the aura of "I'm not like the others man..I'm with you"
I say "Yeah screw those guys're awesome."
I say "Guns are cool."
I say "You ought to get a raise man."
I think of saying "Lots of people live with their parents on into their golden years."
But catch myself before I do..
I sign out for the day tired and dirty
Thinking to myself
Tomorrow I'm totally wearing shorts
And a flack jacket.

© 2010 drave

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Added on July 19, 2010
Last Updated on July 19, 2010




New to the site..old to writing..trying to kind of kick start a tired muse. I can handle criticism and am definitely looking for new friends/influences/sources/enemies/co-conspirators/nut jobs/ect... more..

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A Poem by drave