First Job
Sitting at the table
filling out an application.
Excited, yet nervous,
will I do a good job.
Will I get fired my first day.
Question after question being fired.
My mind can’t think, when will we be done.
Shaking my hand and welcoming me aboard
Still in a fog as I walk out the door.
My mother smiles at me
and I’m smiling at her.
She says welcome to the workforce.
Your cell phone payment is due on the
Fourth.
This poem is about:
Me