An untitled poem for Halloween
How tasty the soup is
As it suffices my hunger
It eases my heart
After enduring sadness and anger
The satisfying taste
Gives both light and warmth
Enough to fill an empty soul
All after the stress and toil
From time to time how stressful work is
Especially after enduring the boss's responses
Sometimes it affects my sleep
If not the time for me to eat
Many tasks to finish upon
Papers to pass, books to carry on
Yet the salary still quite low
But had to endure then and now
For sure my parents would disagree on this
Such as working for a low wage
Despite passing one, two, three, five pages
Accomplished works can't cast out their doubts
But the soup served ease my stresses
If not lightens out my burden
Enough for me to save for the times sudden
If not for the coffee that's often
Oh coffee! my joy and delight!
You made me awake against the forbidding night!
The soup! Enough for an ambrosia!
Compliments the coffee so glorious!
Enough to forget the low wage
Instead shutting the bosses down by passing them hundred pages
But good lord when will their consciences realise
That their servant worked hard yet ain't enough what they pay?