Working Class.

Today I spent nine hours
selling movie tickets in a glass fishbowl
Its decorated with purple and green
as if to lift my cinematic spirits.
But I still hate my job and all of
the carpeted walls inside of it.

I had a four year old's handprint
all over my windows
His hair was blonde and curly and
blowing in the wind,
Just like yours did back in '07.
He asked me how in the world
would I ever get out through the
Four inch ticket hole,
And I wondered the same thing.
Just then the winds changed
and I became impatient.

A co worker of mine told me of her endeavors,
Her grandfather passed away in a hospital gown,
She acted as if he weren't there,
She smoked in her room,
and colored her hair.
I was ashamed,
But at least I had a clear view of the
Sunset.

-A