Hopeless Profession

When I pass by a homeless man I feel guilt for not sticking out my hand

deep into my heart he scans... for compassion

my wallet's empty too I wish my job would give me a chance

Unemployed I'm not, broke I am

The day I receive a check, I'll feel like a champ

 but I feel like s***

the rate I'm going the jackpot I'll never hit

But let me clarify a bit

my job is marketing

In my interview they made the job sound pimping

why the hell is my wallet bleeding

commissions pay is a b**** when no one's buying and everyone’s cancelling opportunities for me to show them the world's finest kitchen knives.

 If this was my career I don't think I'd be alive.

Coworkers doing so well every check is a big surprise.

Because of my scarce productivity this job I f****** despise.

Ever since I relocated I feel like the customers are running away.

And this is why I don't get paid.

Actually I spend on food to cut in demos so I'm underpaid.

I'm so poor, what am I going to put on my plate?

You Vector Marketing assholes must want to see me put a hole in my brain

So why haven't I quit yet?

Don't want to upset my very enthusiastic caring first boss.

Maybe for the people who promised to buy later

Or maybe I'm waiting for my mom to tell me I don't have a real job again

This job was supposed to be better than coaching disobedient kids

Or at McDonalds being disrespected by customers with low social positions, I was not content.

I spent my earnings on gas and clothing, I looked rich and it was nice to pretend.

But all I ever wanted was a job I'd enjoy, come around again off my hours like the paperboy.

I've always wanted a job at the skating rink or

have a new car waiting to be valid every time I blinked or

have customers ask about their new phone so I can talk and tweak.

But all hope may be extinct

when college is pushing me back to the starting line like "No!, you will remain a number!"

I'm so done with the restless jobs that make me suffer.

Maybe there's a pot at the end of the rainbow waiting to be discovered.

But I fear I'm being deceived and the road will get rougher.

Thinking about this is so stressful, can I just crawl under my covers?