Challenge
Are you a carpenter? A pole dancer? Do you work in a cubicle? Write a poem inspired by your work experience, good or bad. Lusting over a coworker? Anticipating the next promotion? Afraid of being out in the open? Write it all here!
What I must
In my old life I survived
Fed the kids, and stayed alive
Stayed above the rising tide
Never strayed far from that line
But I have been born anew
I do what I have to do
I don't sell anything I wouldn't use
I tell myself that I've been true
And I might get hauled off someday
Someday my kids might see my face
Through a bulletproof window pane
My wife might feel a widow's pain
But even she can understand
Why I sell this, with gun in hand
I make my living from the land
We, all of us, do what we can
If all should fall apart then trust
My little girls will have enough
The responsibilities don't vary much
We, all of us, do what we must
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